The Weight
by eromist
Summary: "I'm glad my 'da was insane enough, wouldn't be here otherwise". *Not good at summaries. Another OC with Easy Company. Enjoy!*
1. Chapter 1

At the age of five, Murphy's parents lost everything.

The Company her dad worked for shut down and he couldn't find work after that. They went on the dole, but it was never enough, seeing as half of Ireland went on the dole too. Ireland just couldn't provide for its people. And soon, they were hit with starvation, crappy housing, cheep beer and many deaths. A lot of deaths hit Murphy's house. Her mother lost the most, her dad told Murphy that God wanted to take His angels back to heaven. But he was drunk at the time, Murphy figured he could have been lying.

Noah came along when Murphy was six. When he reached the age of one, their mother relaxed, knowing Noah was safe. And Noah was safe, if not a little annoying for Murphy. He was always following her around, getting her into trouble and crying when he didn't get his own way. Murphy didn't like Noah following her around and she tended to tell him off more than she would have liked to. There wasn't a lot for a kid to do in Limerick and because their parents were too poor for toys, they had to create their own games. On the days Murphy allowed Noah to tag along with her, she'd create them both an imaginative world to play in. She was very good at that, creating stories and making up characters. Noah loved her for that.

When Murphy was ten, her dad got a job in London. He promised to send the money back and he did but just the once. For two years their dad was in London, earning money and spending it all down in the pub. Their mother moved them in with Murphy's Granny, who was strict and very Catholic. Murphy didn't like her Granny much, but she did do them a favour by letting the three of them live with her for two years after they lost the tiny apartment. When their father came home, Murphy's mother lost another baby. And when Murphy turned fifteen, they moved across the Atlantic and immigrated to Brooklyn.

Murphy liked school but school didn't like her. The teachers weren't nice to Murphy. And her mother was also so concerned by her grades.

"She's very dense, your daughter. She talks too much".

It was always a bad report. Until Murphy reached the age of sixteen and one teacher liked her. He didn't fabricate her grades and allowed Murphy to attend after school activities. Life in Brooklyn was brilliant, Murphy loved America. And then America decided to join the war, after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbour. Ireland didn't play much part during the war. But Murphy was very concerned. Young men enlisted into the marines, naval forces, regular army, air force and a brand-new concept, the Airborne infantry; Paratroopers.

"You see this, Maggie?" Her dad was telling their mothers, "they get an extra one hundred dollars a month".

"You're too old to be joining the army, Michael".

By that point, Murphy's mother had given birth to twin boys and their father still didn't have a job. Murphy thought maybe the reason her dad acted the way he was, was because he was so disappointed in himself. He was letting his family down and old habits die hard, so he continued to drink daily and get drunk at night.

"I am, yes". Michael said, "but Murphy's not".

"She just turned nineteen!" Maggie wasn't impressed, "you'd let your daughter die!"

"If we don't get money, we'll all die!"

"I'll do it". Murphy agreed because she was sick of seeing her family suffer. "I'll join".

The process of joining was a lot easier than they thought.

Females weren't allowed to join as a combat role. However, there were ways around it. Murphy's teacher just happened to be an officer, a very high-ranking officer during the Great War. As a respected man in the army, he managed to worm Murphy into volunteering for the Paratroopers. It was a good thing he liked Murphy, but he was sad to see her leave. He had hoped she'd stay and get into a good college one day but people as poor as Murphy, didn't belong in colleges. That's the way she saw it because it helped ease the disappointment of wanting to achieve but knowing she could never reach that high.

"Be good, Murphy". Maggie warned her daughter, "do as your told".

Murphy kissed the twin's goodbye and hugged Noah.

She was going to miss Noah the most.

On the twenty-second of August, Murphy Flynn arrived at camp Toccoa.

She was placed into Easy Company, 2nd Platoon. With forty to fifty men per Platoon, no one seemed to notice that someone new had joined them, and that someone just happened to be a girl. Murphy slipped passed the men and reached the back of the barrack. There was an empty bed, she hadn't slept on a bed since they lived with Granny. Murphy put her bag down and started to sort out her uniform and PT gear. They weren't allowed to bring personal items.

Though loud and busy, the barracks were spacious and brand-new.

It beat the apartment back in Brooklyn anyway.

Murphy hadn't been a sporty person previously, but she did know that training to be a paratrooper was going to push her to the very limit. With strict discipline, constant pressure and physical excursion, Murphy didn't know how she'd handle this. But she had to stick at it because her family was counting on the money and she couldn't let them down, she couldn't be like her father.

For her first short day in Toccoa, Murphy didn't talk to anyone.

And the next morning, everything was done in double-time.

Five o'clock wake up call.

Quickly change into uniform, making sure everything was cleaned.

Six o'clock inspection with their Company Commander, Lieutenant Sobel.

Have weekend passes revoked for infractions.

Change into PT gear, for a six-mile run up a mountain.

Murphy almost died up Currahee. Her lungs burned, her throat was dry, and everything ached.

She was right in the middle of the Company, disappearing in the crowd. But she made it up. She realized then, that Murphy would have to use the mind over body tactic and convince herself that she could run, and she wasn't about to pass-out from exhaustion. Once the run was done, Lieutenant Winters, her Platoon leader, led PT, physical training. Jumping jacks, sit-ups, push-ups and pull-ups. It was hard and Murphy knew she was behind. Still, no one noticed her struggle because a lot of new guys within the Company were struggling like her.

At nine, they ate breakfast in the mess hall and drank a lot of water. Murphy was more excited about drinking her weight in water. It was a rushed breakfast because straight after, they had half hour to get ready for the assault course. Sobel wanted them to complete the course in under seven minutes. Murphy thought the man was insane but the men who had been in training for over two weeks, managed to complete the course in five minutes. She struggled with the monkey bars and the wall. Those were two obstacles which required a lot of guts and upper body strength, which Murphy lacked with. Still, just seeing the other men complete the course with ease, made Murphy more determined to keep on trying.

By the afternoon, Murphy was tired. They had lectures after lunch with Lieutenant Nixon. Murphy sat in the middle of the lecture hall, while Nixon went over map reading and military tactics. She took notes and listened to him carefully. Nixon also led her Platoon with Winters. She thought they were both a lot better than Sobel. Because her first impression of Sobel wasn't a very good one. He seemed petty, unfair and shouted instead of talking normally. Murphy knew he was only doing his job, but it became apparent that Easy didn't have much respect for him.

Murphy got to fire her rifle the next day, it was her first time firing a gun. Lying on her stomach, she got into the firing position and looked across the field. There were sand-bags in the shape of men, with a sign saying, "Jap", or "Kraut", hanging from its neck. Murphy wasn't a natural, she was okay, but she wasn't as good as the men. Murphy was average at best. She wasn't sure how well she was doing but they hadn't kicked her out yet, meaning Murphy wasn't doing anything too badly.

However, the worst thing came later that afternoon. Sparring. Murphy had never been in a fight before, but these men looked willing and ready. They were pairing each guy up with someone of similar size and build.

"You and you". Sobel would go around, pointing to each man.

And one by one, they'd enter the circle, put on their gloves and helmet and fight.

The main purpose of sparring was about controlled aggression. One of the officers would stop the fight after a few minutes, before someone was knocked out. If the guy didn't stop fighting despite being told, then it was an automatic fail. Controlled aggression was something they'd all need to have during combat, if you went out there, guns blazing and looking for a fight, then you'd get yourself and your friends killed. Knowing when to stop, was a great lesson Murphy learned while training.

Sobel paired her up with a guy called Robert Bloser, a smallish man from her Platoon. Murphy just had to be good enough to get through this training exercise. At five-foot four, she was the smallest member in Easy and the skinniest, due to being so poor and not having enough to eat. Murphy wondered if this guy would have refused knowing he was about to fight a girl. Gender didn't matter in combat; the enemy would kill you regardless. And it didn't matter in Toccoa.

"Touch gloves". Winters told them.

Murphy and Bloser touched gloves and Winters put his hand between them.

"Go!"

It seemed Bloser was eager to impress the other guys, Murphy didn't blame him. The guys who had been in Toccoa longer than them, were as tough as nails. But she didn't want to get hit. So, when Bloser took the first swing, Murphy ducked and moved to the side.

"Come on, Rob! Get him!"

Murphy wasn't put off by the cheering, she just didn't want to get hit. It didn't look very pleasant. Some of the guys had blood running from their nose and mouth, one of them had even chipped his tooth, he looked like a pirate.

"Take a shot, come on!"

Bloser was doing well in taking a swing at Murphy whenever he could, though she was always doing well in avoiding them. It was probably a very frustrating match to witness. Especially for Sobel, who looked utterly disgusted by this fight, or lack of fight. Bloser was getting annoyed as well, his buddies weren't impressed because Murphy was quick at avoiding his punches.

"Quit moving!" Bloser yelled, "fight back, come on!"

Murphy was a little confused. Why did he want her to fight back?

"You're fucking impossible!"

She wasn't angry but Murphy's tactics on avoiding hits, were starting to drag unwanted attention and Sobel would surely yell at her; she didn't want that. So, Murphy would have to fight back and hope for the best. Biting down on her lip for a moment, she straightened herself out from the hunched position and looked up at Bloser. He was grinning.

"Alright – let's go!"

Murphy stepped forward, just a little and Bloser took a quick swing. She got hit, on her right cheek. It didn't hurt but she didn't want it to happen again. But it did happen again, this time, right on the nose. Murphy thought she was doing to be seeing black, it was very hard, and she could feel blood start to drip from he nostrils. She didn't want that to happen again. When Bloser pulled back a little, Murphy aimed low and punched him in the stomach, harder than expected. Bloser hunched over for a moment, so, she gave him the uppercut and punched him in the chin. Bloser's head flew up towards the sky, Murphy punched his stomach again.

This was turning into a good fight.

Bloser gave his head a shake and got back into position.

Murphy did the same, he took the first swing. She avoided it and he did it once more. Murphy raised her right hand, he avoided it, but her left hand was waiting for him. She smacked the left side of his face and then hit his right, when his face turned.

"Stop!" Winters got between them.

Murphy lowered her hands.

She actually enjoyed that.

Bloser smiled, "good fight".

Murphy nodded, they both walked back towards the others once their gloves were off.

"You're new, right?" He asked, "me too, arrived last week. Pretty crazy".

Sparring might be her new favourite part of training.

Murphy wiped the blood off her face and watched two others enter the centre.

"What's your name?" Bloser asked.

"Murphy".

His face fell and he turned a shade of pale. Murphy looked up at him, shaking her head.

"Oh my God". Bloser mumbled. "Holy fuck – you're a-"

"come on". She said lowly, "don't make a spectacle out of this".

He almost laughed, "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" Murphy said, "I'm here for the money".

He laughed that time, "really?"

She nodded, "yeah, 'mam needed the money".

"When did you move to the States?"

"Few years back".

Bloser shook his head, "unbelievable". He whispered, "ah – shit. I just hit a girl". He then added with a laugh, "I just got beat up by one too".

"Yeah, you did". Murphy agreed with a tiny smile.

"Wait – do they know?" Bloser asked.

"Not sure". She replied, "Col Sink does, anyway".

"And no one else?"

Murphy shrugged, "honestly, I don't even think they know I'm here".

Bloser smiled, "yeah…I never noticed you either. You just sort of – blended in, I guess".

Soon, word spread around of Murphy Flynn.

"I can't believe we didn't fucking notice you". Guarnere said to her. "Where the fuck were you hiding? Under your Goddam bed?"

Murphy smiled and shook her head, "no – I suppose I just blended it".

"My families from Ireland". Malarkey said, "where you from?"

"Limerick, southern Ireland".

"Catholic, huh?"

Murphy shrugged, "yeah, I suppose. Dads a Protestant".

Muck hissed, "ouch. And your mom married him anyway?"

She nodded, "yeah. He's from Belfast".

"I don't envy those Christmas dinners".

Murphy chuckled softly. "Yeah, they're a 'fecking wreck".

"Hey – we 'gonna get on at Rob yet?" Toye asked, "getting his ass beat by this little mick".

Bloser shook his head, "she's got a good uppercut, Joe".

Malarkey grinned, "it's the Irish spirit, huh, Murph?"

She smirked, "the Irish spirit is whiskey, Malarkey".

"What about Dutch courage?" Penkala added with a grin.

"You drink, Murph?" Guarnere asked, "heard they're 'gonna let us have a beer on Sunday".

"God's day off". Muck nodded, "appropriate. Drinking when the big guys taking a nap".

"Why they doing that?" Toye asked.

"Cause we passed phase one". Guarnere replied. "We beat those other chuckleheads, huh?"

"We did".

It was a lot easier to train in Toccoa when you had people on your side. Especially when it came to Sobel. Murphy still kept her head down and followed orders. It turned out she had a pretty passive nature to her, which was probably why no one noticed her at first. Murphy liked the men in Easy, they all had vibrant and colourful personalities and not one was the same. They all had a different reason for joining the paratroopers. Some of them wanted to fight with the best, some needed the extra money and others just had a lot to prove. But they did share one collective thing in common; they all hated Sobel.

Out in training, they did what was asked and tried to stay away from his ever-glaring stare.

Back in the barracks, they all shared their hatred towards the man. It's how they bonded.

Sobel was horrible and it became more apparent to Murphy, with one incident.

There was a guy named Aaron Keith and he had arrived two weeks before Murphy. Apparently on his first day, Sobel ordered to empty his bag and Aaron had brought everything but the kitchen sink. Books, clothes, shoes, a portable radio – everything. Sobel took all his items away and yelled at him for a good two-minutes before he made him do push-ups in front of the entire Platoon. From that moment, Aaron developed a stinking attitude. A few of the guys warned Murphy to stay away from him because he was "odd". She decided to stay away from Aaron, trusting their warnings about him. Aaron stood up after three days into phase two of training and asked to quit. Sobel wouldn't let him, for whatever reasons. Murphy figured Sobel still wanted to punish Aaron for when he arrived, but it turned out to be a terrible decision.

At two in the morning, Sobel woke up their Platoon and ordered everyone outside. Tired and confused, the volunteer Paratroopers followed his orders and stood in formation outside, where Sobel then proceeded to tell them that Aaron had taken his own life. The way Sobel worded it wasn't in a respectful manor. He berated Aaron even after his death. Murphy's stomach bubbled with anger towards their CO because it was his fault Aaron had killed himself to begin with. He should have let him leave, this wasn't a prison, after all. Men were free to quit if they couldn't do it anymore because training was tough and mentally challenging. The next morning, Winters walked into their barrack and addressed them about last night, with a different approach. He was kind and spoke quietly. It was a sensitive matter and he knew how to handle it.

"Hang tough". He told them, "you're all here for a reason. Keep proving yourself".

The morale was lifted after that and things went back to normal.

They didn't mention Aaron Keith again.

On the Sunday after the incident, the men opened letters from home and shared photos of their girlfriends. Murphy had a few letters stacked up in her footlocker, which she refused to open. It would be too easy to get homesick, crave home and wash-out. Some of the other guys didn't read their letters either, though Murphy still sent the money back to her family. She just didn't write to them. Guarnere had a picture of his girl back home, she was wearing a grass Hawaiian skirt and he was very proud of it. The other men seemed to like it as well.

"Your ten seconds are up – fuck off". He'd tell them, once their eye lingered for more than five seconds. Frannie was a pretty girl. Guarnere was lucky. So the guys told him.

Sunday's were always a day to look forward to because it was there only day off. But with little to do around camp, they had to make their own entertainment. Some of them played cards, others went down to PX and listened to the radio and the camp had organized a few sporting teams. Most of the guys from Easy played sports. Baseball, basketball and football. Murphy wasn't a sporty person, but sparring had reached a certain amount of interest. She liked the discipline involved with the sport and she liked trying to figure out the components next move. But she wouldn't sign up for the team, Murphy would only spar during training.

They started to jump off from mock platforms, to get them ready for the real thing. Landing properly was a skill they all had to master, unless they wanted to break a bone or die. Sobel demonstrated first and then they'd take it in turns, while he assessed them. Of course, nothing was ever perfect with that man, but he never said anything after Murphy completed her first jump from the platform.

And then, came the trainasium. A sixty-foot high jungle-gym on steroids. It was structured with ladders and nets on the side. On the very top, was two metal poles, a stretch apart from each other. Each guy had to climb up and cross the top. If someone refused, it was a fail. They had three attempts. Murphy would admit, it did look intimidating, standing there so tall and unstable. But if Sobel had done it, then so could the rest of them. So, with 1st Platoon going first, one by one, each young man walked up the ladders to the very top.

"Stand by!" Sobel would yell, when they were on the two poles.

You had to keep your arms out and stand there, trying hard to balance on the poles, sixty feet above the ground.

"Go!"

And then, you walked. As slowly, or as quickly as you liked.

"Stand by – touch your toes!"

When you crossed, Sobel would tell you to get down and the next guy would head-up.

Phase two was tougher because it was more about confidence and facing any fears you might have had when coming into Toccoa. Murphy watched a few guys from 1st cross the top and decided not to watch the rest. She'd rather figure this one out for herself and besides, if Murphy watched more and more men cross, it would make crossing it herself harder. Eventually, it was their Platoons turn. And first up was Lipton, their Platoon Sargent. Of course, he crossed it no bother, Lipton had to show everyone that it was fine and as easy as walking down a street. And Guarnere was next because he was their other Sargent from 2nd. Most of them didn't wobble, one or two refused at first but went on the second go. Murphy was next.

"You - go". Sobel told her.

She climbed up the many ladders first, looking up and not down; not yet, anyway.

Once at the top, she stood on the poles, one foot on either side and spread her arms out, facing the front.

"Stand by!" Sobel yelled from the bottom.

Balance was key here. If you were clumsy, you risked a wobble or two.

"Go!"

Murphy moved forwards, pretending she was walking on a kerb on the side of the pavement. When she reached the centre, Sobel ordered her to stop and touch her toes. She stopped and very slowly, reached down towards her toes, glad that she didn't have to reach very far. Murphy straightened herself back-up, Sobel didn't give her the order to go. She didn't know how long she had stood there for but eventually the man told her to go. When she joined her Platoon, some of them were laughing quietly.

"He forgot you were up there". Malarkey told her.

Murphy smiled, "oh, right".

It was okay, if you weren't afraid of heights. If you were, then it was perfect to get a hold of that fear. A few of them came down shaking. Murphy smiled and gave Bloser a pat on the back.

"You did it, Rob. That's the main thing".

Bloser shook his head, face still pale. "I feel like I'm 'gonna puke".

Murphy winced a little, "yeah? Ah – you'll be alright, Rob. Bet your parents will be thrilled".

"You think?"

She nodded, "yeah, for sure. You should tell them all about it, pally".

Bloser smiled small, "thanks, Murph. I'll tell 'em".

"Take some water". Murphy told him, "you might feel better".

"Thanks, Murph".

The day after Sobel was promoted to Captain and Winter 1st Lieutenant, Murphy suspected something was off. For starters, Sobel had told the Company that they would be given light lectures after lunch and for lunch, they were having spaghetti, one of their favourite meals. Murphy didn't trust this, she figured it was some sort of test and didn't eat any of it. And she was right to refuse the meal because just as they were finishing up with lunch, Sobel barged into the mess hall.

"Orders changed! Get up! Easy Company is running up Currahee. High-ho silver!"

Though, just seeing her friends get sick was hard enough. The run was horrible, Sobel made it worse. He taunted those who were vomiting, offered them a trip back in an ambulance. But they weren't stupid enough to fall for that trick; the ambulance was a sure threat to get them kicked out of the airborne. And Sobel could be cruel and single each guy out. He did it to Christenson after their annual Friday night twelve-mile march in full gear. Sobel told them not to drink but of course, Christenson had to take a drink. Sobel ordered him to do the march again by himself. If he felt like being cruel, Sobel would punish men with digging holes in the ground, running up Currahee or garrison duties, such as cleaning the latrines or polishing everyone's rifles. But it wasn't the punishment itself, it was why they were being punished to begin with. Sobel would find one tiny little thing wrong and then give you a terrible punishment, as if you had just committed the worst crime possible.

So, getting sick up a mountain, wasn't necessary, it was just cruel.

…

"Ah, fuck".

"What?"

"My knees are shredded".

"Well, Joe…see a medic". Guarnere told Toye.

"He'll tell me to take it easy, I can't do that".

Murphy looked up from her rifle, which she was polishing. "Willow bark is good for pain relief".

Toye looked at her, "a tree?"

She nodded, "yeah. Used to give it to the babies when they were teething". Murphy put down her rifle and got up, "I'll go get you some".

"Right now?"

She nodded again, while putting on her jacket. "I won't get caught".

Murphy didn't get caught, despite walking a few feet away from some of the officers on patrol that night. She took a few pieces of bark from the tree and placed them into her musette bag, before walking back into her barrack, twenty minutes later.

"Just chew it".

"Thanks". Toye smiled and chewed on the bark, "that's fucking disgusting".

Murphy huffed out a tiny laugh, "yeah but it helps".

"Hey, can I have some, Murph?" Muck asked, "ankle still a bit tender".

She handed a piece to him, "just chew it, Skip".

"Thanks".

"Hey – what about me?"

Murphy had to take a few trips towards the tree-line that night. A lot of the men had been hiding injuries, not wanting to risk their position within Easy. She didn't mind, Murphy didn't want to see any of them go either. Even Lipton had some bark.

"Listen, you don't 'wanna be getting caught". He told her, "you've kept your head down so far, don't ruin it, Murph".

"No more runs, Sarge". Murphy promised him with a toothy grin.

Lipton smiled back at her, "I still can't believe we didn't notice you".

She shrugged, "I've always been invisible, Sarge".

"Maybe you're just quiet, huh?"

"Maybe".

Their time in Toccoa was closing to an end. Murphy had enjoyed getting to know the guys and learning more about herself that she didn't know before. But she was happy to be leaving this place. However, the 506th were soon set for their most gruelling training exercise yet.

A 118-mile march to Atlanta.

Col Sink had heard that the Japanese had completed a one-hundred-mile march in just three days, he reckoned his men could do a better job. So, on the 1st of December, they began their march up Currahee, when it started to snow. For many of them, it was going to be a miserable experience. In order to break the record, they'd need to do around thirty to forty miles a day. That was a lot, and they had all their gear as well. Murphy felt terrible for the mortar squads, they had it the worst of all.

They covered forty-four-miles on the that fist day and slept in pup-tents that night, which didn't shelter them from the furious wind hammering down on them. Murphy was lodged between Lipton, Smith and Hendrix. They had some bread and jam for supper that night because they couldn't get a fire going to heat up any rations, as the wind was too strong. It was very strange for Murphy, though it was gruelling and hard, she found comfort in the cold and having a hungry belly because she was so used to it. And the same went for Sobel, she was already used to being yelled at, it made no difference to her at Toccoa.

"You got that bark?"

Murphy shook her head.

Malarkey sighed, "alright".

It was the next morning. The temperature had dropped below freezing and the mud had frozen. Some of the men had slept with their boots off and when they woke up, their boots had frozen and they could hardy get their feet back inside.

"What's wrong?" Murphy asked him.

He shook his head, "I'm fine".

He wasn't, he had shin splint.

Malarkey sighed again, "shins are swollen".

"Right – well, you always have an option if it gets any worse". Murphy pointed out.

"No way, Murph". He mumbled, "I ain't giving up".

She smiled a little, "your courage is admirable…if not a little silly, Malark".

He snorted at that, "well – thanks, Murph".

They didn't have much of a break, it was only fifteen-minutes and then back on their feet again. Murphy preferred that. The quicker they got moving, the quicker they'd reach Point Five. Not a lot of men broke during that march. Though, some did complain about the weather, cursing every word they could think of under the sun. Whatever helped them through it. As long as they all crossed that line together, that's all that mattered to Murphy.

"How're you holding up, Murph?" Guarnere asked her.

"Fine". She replied quietly, "I'm used to the cold".

"Irish weather, huh?"

Murphy nodded.

"Some of these kids ain't even seen snow". He said, "imagine that, huh?"

"They missed out, Bill". She said, "but snow is always better, when you have a warm house after".

Guarnere grinned, "true, Murph. Could use a warm house right about now".

"Yeah".

He sighed and wiped his nose, "got any brothers, Murph?"

"Hm – oh, three". She replied, "all younger…what about you?"

"Youngest of ten brothers and sisters".

Murphy's eyes widened a little, "ten?"

Guarnere nodded, "yeah, guess I'm used to this bullshit".

She smiled, "guess you are, Bill". Murphy said, "any of them serving?"

"One in Africa, the others in the Pacific". He told her, "Henry's four years older than me, closest to my age. A baseball nut, he plays the sport like theirs no fucking tomorrow. Knows every player on the Goddam team. Now, Earnest, he joined the Goddam navy. Can't read or write, you know but the guys got some brains about life".

Murphy shrugged, "you don't put your brains on paper, Bill. You use your mouth".

Guarnere grinned and clapped her shoulder, "you get it, Murph. You're street smart too".

"What about your parents?"

He chuckled, "Pop's Joe the tailor. Wanted me to carry on, huh? But it wasn't for me. And mom's an angel. Typical Italian women don't take no shit from nobody".

Murphy nodded, "my 'mammy's the same". She said, "batters 'da across the head with a frying pan".

He chuckled again, "yeah?"

"Oh yeah. When he comes back from drinking the dirty water, as 'mam called it. Drunk as a fucking skunk".

Guarnere sighed, "yeah…you Irish sure can drink".

"It's the depression, Bill". She shrugged, "gets to them all, eh?"

"Hey, that's what keeps us smart, Murph". He told her, "you 'gotta know shit to survive".

They covered forty-miles that day and eventually settled down for the night.

"Murph?"

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, "yes, Sarge?"

Lipton let go of her shoulder, "Lieutenant Winters wants a word".

That confused her a little, Murphy quickly got out from the pup-tent, leaving Guarnere and Toye both fast asleep. She followed Lipton past the sleeping men from 2nd and soon found Winters Nixon, who were both sitting outside their tent. Lipton gave them a nod before he turned and walked away. Murphy didn't look concerned, her face remained natural.

"Private Flynn". Winters addressed quietly.

"Yes, sir". She replied evenly.

He smiled a little, "it appears your presence within this Company and my Platoon, has gone unnoticed". He said, "which remains a mystery, seeing as you're the only female in the 506th".

Murphy didn't know how to respond to that. So, she kept quiet.

"Well, you've done a good job at keeping your head down, Private". Winters said, "if it wasn't for Col Sink asking me of your well-being, I don't know when I would have noticed you".

"It's not a bad thing, Private". Nixon quickly added, "it's actually pretty good".

"How are you finding training, Private?"

"Fine, sir". Murphy replied, "it's fine".

Winters lips twitched, "good – you're bonding with the men?"

She nodded, "yes, sir".

"Well, it was good to meet you, Private Flynn".

Murphy smiled a little, "like-wise, sir".

When she left, Winters turned to look at Nixon.

"How the hell did we miss her?" He huffed softly, "she's in our Platoon, Nix".

Nixon shook his head, "it's always the quiet ones, huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay?"

There was silence for a moment. And then more retching.

Murphy sighed quietly, "you want me in?"

"No!"

She smiled a little, "well, alright, Rob".

Bloser was quiet for a few moments, "I think I'm alright".

"Good". Murphy said, while she leaned against the wall, by the sinks. "Might want to come out now, eh?"

The toilet flushed and he stepped out from the stall, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Murphy ran the tap for him, while Bloser walked over and rinsed out his mouth a few times. She handed him a few paper towels and he wiped the water and puke from his face.

"Why are you calm?"

She shrugged, "well…the way I see it, there's no use in worrying over something you can't control, Rob. That's what 'mammy used to tell me"

He smiled a little with a sigh, "man, maybe me and your mom should meet, huh?"

Murphy smiled and gave his arm a squeeze, "come on, it's going to be fine, now. Stop being so silly, Rob".

Bloser let out another shaky sigh before giving her a nod. "Okay, let's go".

Murphy and Bloser walked out from the latrines and headed back outside with the rest. Today was the day, finally, they were jumping. In order to earn their jump wings, they had to make five perfect jumps from a C-47 plane, one thousand feet above the ground. Everyone was ready, they all wanted those jump wings and to be certified paratroopers. A lot of the men hadn't been on a plane before, including Murphy. She found them to be massive and looked far too heavy to be floating around in the sky. But they had trained hard for this day, there was no time to be nervous now.

Murphy felt a tiny twinge in her stomach, which could have been nerves or excitement. Whatever it was, she ignored it and got onto the plane. Murphy was glad they packed their chutes themselves at least then, she'd know it was right – hopefully. She sat down beside Guarnere, who was the first one out of the plane. Murphy would rather just get it over with and she had encouraged Bloser to do the same, who was currently sitting next to her. Turning to face him, she smiled. Granted, the guy still looked pale but at least he smiled back at her.

"I hate you!"

Murphy grinned, "yeah – I know!"

Soon, the plane took off and it was the weirdest feeling Murphy had ever felt. It felt like her stomach had left her body and her ears, they just blocked right up. She liked the feeling a lot. Bloser hated it and grabbed onto her arm, shaking his head, which made her laugh. Murphy felt for him, she really did. But it was pretty funny. Guarnere looked over to check up on her and felt relieved to see her laughing, at Bloser nonetheless, but it was good for him to know she was doing alright. He grinned and shook his head, nudging her shoulder.

"You're just being an ass, Murph!"

She set him a toothy grin, "it's the charm of the Irish, Bill!"

When they reached one-thousand feet, the red light went on and the jumpmaster got onto his feet. Murphy stopped laughing and soon paid attention.

"Get ready!"

She leaned forwards, clip in her hand.

"Stand-up!"

The plane was static in the air, they had a good day for a jump. Murphy got onto her feet with the rest of the guys in the stick.

"Hook-up!"

Reaching up, Murphy clipped herself on the line above her head.

"Equipment check!"

With one hand still on her clip, she patted herself down. Good, everything was fine.

"Sound off equipment check!"

It started at twelve, each guy checked the man in front and sounded them off.

"Three-okay!" Bloser said, giving her shoulder a clap.

Murphy checked Guarnere, "two-okay!"

"One-okay!" Guarnere called back.

And then, the light turned green. When Guarnere jumped out, Murphy stood by the opening and a blast of cold air hit her face, almost taking her breath away. Letting go of her clip, she placed both hands on the side of the opening, preparing to push herself out.

"Go!"

And she was off!

Murphy's chute came out from the bag after a few seconds and she gripped onto the line holding it in place. She looked up, just making sure everything was okay, before taking a few seconds to bask in her surroundings. Murphy could see a lot of people floating in the sky, it was a glorious sight to behold. She heard and felt something hit the top of her chute, it worried her for a few moments, but nothing came of it. When Murphy landed, she looked at the top of her chute.

"Ah – sorry, Murph". Bloser said, once he landed.

"Did you spew on my chute?"

He nodded, "yeah – yeah, I did".

Murphy sniggered, "brilliant".

Everyone made that first jump without fail. And they were all pleased and eager to complete the next four jumps. But they were stretched out, due to weather mostly. December was proving to be a difficult month for jumping out of planes. Still, Sobel had plenty of time to keep everyone sharp and fit. More runs, more PT and more assault courses. It was nothing they weren't used to, and it surely passed the time until their next jump.

The second one didn't go as smoothly as the first.

It was windy, Murphy got swept off course and ended up one-mile away from the drop-zone. She made it back with the rest, who had thought she ended up miles away but were relieved when they saw her running back towards them. Murphy didn't fail, since the weather let her down, but the fear of failure hit her when she landed in that random field. Luckily for her, the next jump went fine. And soon, it was Christmas day.

They had a turkey dinner. Murphy had never tasted turkey before. She found it dry but loved it when Bloser lathered it up in gravy. It was a good Christmas, though some of the guys were gutted to be spending Christmas away from their families and loved ones back home. Murphy could only pick out two good Christmas's back home. Both were with Noah, when they were only little kids and on those two occasions, their father wasn't drunk. The rest were spent with Noah crying, her mother trying hard to keep everyone happy and their father yelling and being his usual horrible self. The Christmas she spent with easy, made the good list.

They made their last jump on boxing day and some guys got promoted. Martin, Floyd, Grant, Bull and Christenson made Sargent, Toye, Hoobler and Dukeman made Corporal. And they all earned their jump wings. But the biggest shock of all, was when Murphy got promoted.

"There's something about you that we like". Winters told her, "congratulations, Corporal".

She gave him a nod and salute, "thank you, sir".

They celebrated that night with a party in PX. Even the officers attended to celebrate with their guys. Guarnere was downing pints of beer, trying to beat his time, while everyone cheered him on. Murphy found it funny, but she didn't drink anything, knowing her mother would be greatly disappointed. Even if she wasn't there, it was a promise Murphy could never break.

"Here". Luz handed her a bottle of cola, "don't like to drink, huh?"

"Thanks, George". Murphy smiled, "its mighty kind of 'ye".

He grinned, "man…that sweet Irish".

"Ah – back off, would you?" She joked, "you'll ruin my reputation".

"I didn't realize you carried one, Corporal Flynn".

Murphy shrugged, "well…you's never noticed me before".

"Ah". Luz said knowingly, "got you, like a spy".

"Right". She smirked, "best not tell anyone, George".

"Lips are sealed".

Murphy walked away from the bar, sipping on her coke. Toye passed her with a clap on the shoulder, while he staggered towards Luz, asking for a beer. Murphy ended up sitting on the end of the table, just observing her friends, who were laughing and joking around.

"Enjoying the night?"

Murphy turned her head and saw Liebgott sitting beside her.

"You don't drink, huh?"

She shook her head, "not me".

"Each to their own". He mumbled, before taking a sip of his beer.

Her lips twitched, "yeah…guess so".

Liebgott looked at her, "what's Ireland like?"

"I'm from a shite-hole".

He snorted with a tiny smile, "yeah?"

Murphy nodded, "you bet – what about you?"

"Michigan moved to Oakland, parents are from Austria".

"Really?"

Liebgott nodded, "yeah".

She smiled again, "that's pretty nifty. So, what'd you do before all this?"

"Lots of things". He said, "helped out with my dad in his hairdressers' shop".

"I couldn't do that". Murphy mumbled.

"What's that?"

"Cut people's hair". She said, "I'd 'feck it right up".

Liebgott smiled, "nah – it's easy. Just 'gotta listen to what they want and do it for 'em". He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, "some customers ain't always pleased with the results. That's when you run for your fucking life".

Murphy laughed quietly, "done much running, Lieb?"

"You bet, Murph". He lit his cigarette, "what the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

"How'd you mean?"

He inhaled the smoke, "come on, Murph. Even you know this ain't a place for girls".

Murphy shrugged, "not sure, Lieb. Seem to be doing alright so far". She said, "da wanted me here for the money".

"Right". Liebgott nodded for her to go on.

"That's it, pal". She said quietly, "nought left to add".

"How come we didn't fucking notice?"

"You weren't looking for a girl, were 'ye?" She smirked.

Liebgott chuckled, "you're alright, Murph. They must see something in you, you got promoted".

Murphy sighed quietly, "I 'dunno, Lieb. I don't think I did anything to get it".

He shrugged, "you must have done something, Murph. That shit don't come easy, in Easy".

Smiling, she looked up at him. "Thanks, Lieb".

Murphy found him a little intense but Liebgott was a good guy. Quiet, maybe a little isolated. But she liked him. He was a hard guy to understand and he had a moody face a lot of the times, so it was always nice to see him smile, when he meant it.

"Ten-hut!"

Everyone got onto their feet when Col Sink walked into the room.

"Well, at ease, Paratroopers". He told them all, "good evening, Easy Company!"

"Evening, sir!" They responded.

Sink gave them a nod, with a hard smile. "Now, parachute infantry is a brand-new concept in American Military history. But, by God, the 506 is 'gonna forge that brand-new concept into victory!"

Easy cheered at that, "yes, sir!"

"I want you all to know that I'm damn proud of each and everyone of you. Now, you deserve this party". He told them, "thank you, Sargent Grant". Sink said, once handed a beer.

"Sir". Grant moved back from him.

"So, I want you all to have fun and remember our motto; Currahee!"

"Currahee!"

…

They were given a ten-day furlough the next morning.

Murphy was happy to be seeing her family once again and she left a few days after they were given the furlough. Though, it took her almost a full day to get there. And Brooklyn hadn't changed since she departed from her home in August. She walked up the stairs, reaching the fifth floor. Murphy opened the door and saw her mother sitting on the chair, trying to give medicine to one of her twin brothers.

"Hey, 'mam".

Maggie turned to familiar sound of her only daughter's voice and smiled with tears in her eyes.

Murphy walked over to her, "what's wrong with Conor?"

"Oh, it's nothing, pet". Maggie assured her, "aw, look at you, Murphy. You look so grown-up".

Smiling a little, Murphy placed her hand on little Conor's forehead, "he's warm, 'mammy".

She sighed softly, "it's just the cold, pet".

"I'll put the water on, shall I?"

Maggie leaned back against her chair, "cup of tea?"

Murphy nodded and headed towards the sink. She grabbed a pot from the counter and filled it with cold water, before placing it over the stone. "Where's 'da?"

"He'll be home soon".

She nodded slightly, "right".

It didn't seem much had changed in the small apartment either.

"Noah will be home soon". Maggie said, "he doesn't know you're coming".

Murphy smiled, while she grabbed two cups and a teabag. "No milk?"

"Afraid not, pet". She said.

"I'll get some". Murphy offered, "where's the-"

"Murphy". Maggie's voice lowered, "your father hasn't been doing so well since you left".

Her face fell slightly, "what'd you mean?"

With Conor still in her arms, Maggie got up. "He's been fired from his work".

"Right". Murphy mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. "So…he's been at pubs?"

"Yes". She whispered, a slight tremor in her voice. "He wasted the money".

Murphy was about to leave the house.

But she didn't have to collect her father, he turned up a few moments later. Michael was drunk. He almost fell over when he entered the house, his hair was a mess and his jacket was hanging off his shoulders; he looked a mess. Maggie didn't yell, she walked into their only bedroom, meaning to put Conor down for a sleep but also wanting to keep her distance from her husband. Murphy stared at him, eyes burning holes into his skull. He didn't deserve her mother's kindness and love and he didn't deserve the family he had. And at the exact moment, Noah walked into the house. His eyes went from Michael and then towards Murphy.

"Murphy!" He exclaimed, a large grin soon spreading across his face.

Noah wrapped her into a hug, Murphy placed a hand on his back, still staring at her father.

"Why are you here? Are you coming home?"

She shook her head.

Noah's face fell a little and he ended the embrace.

They shouldn't even be living here. With the money Murphy was sending home, they could have afforded a place with more than two rooms, Noah deserved his own bedroom. But they still had the same two-seater couch, which was there upon their arrival. It was damp, with holes which Maggie sewed but the thread kept on tearing away because Noah would pick at it. And the kitchen consisted of a sink with only cold running water, a stove and a small cool-box to store meat, milk and butter – it was empty. In the one bedroom, they all shared a double bed, with a mattress which had many stains, it always felt damp and cold. This was no way to live. And Michael should have tried harder. If he loved his family, he would have tried harder. And Murphy was sick of making excuses for him.

It had to change. Or they'd continue to suffer.

Michael looked over at the pair of them. "You – what the fuck are you looking at?"

Swallowing, Murphy gave Noah a nudge. "Get away, Noah".

"What?" He whispered.

"Go see 'mam".

Noah, nervous now, looked at his big sister and then to his father.

"Now – come on, pally". Murphy urged quietly.

She had only been inside the house for twenty minutes and already, things were kicking off. When Noah left her, Michael stepped towards him, but Noah quickened his pace and made it into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Murphy moved away from the counter.

"You should leave". She told Michael lowly.

He pulled a face, "what's that?"

She shook her head, "just go, eh? You're drinking my money away".

Michael laughed, "that's my money".

Murphy snorted, "hm – right, of course, it is". She said, "cause you're the one training and working hard, aren't 'ye?"

"I'm providing for-"

"you're not". She said, "you're drinking. They have no food, Conor's sick and you don't care".

Michael snapped, "don't talk 'te me like that!"

Murphy took in a deep breath and looked passed him.

"You stupid! Fucking girl!" He went on, "you're nothing in that fucking uniform! Don't come into my house and start telling me what to do!"

She was making it worse because Noah soon came charging into the room.

"Leave her alone!" He yelled, "leave her alone, 'da!"

"Aw fuck off!" Michael raged.

"No!" Noah yelled back, "why are 'ye such an arse to us!"

"Because no one gives a flying shite about you!"

Murphy shouldn't have come home.

The next thing that happened was Noah getting punched in the face. Murphy ran and grabbed Michael, throwing him onto the ground.

"That's enough". She said, still keeping her voice quiet. "Noah – get 'ma and the boys, you're staying with Mrs Patrick until I take care of this mess".

"Get the fuck off me!"

Murphy was straddling him, making sure he couldn't move and take another swing at Noah. He did, however, manage to headbutt Murphy on the nose. She hissed and placed a hand over her nose.

"Jesus". She whispered, "Noah, now – come on".

Michael managed to get free, Murphy fell to the ground and he leaned over her, fist soon colliding into her right eye. Noah grabbed him by the neck, pulling them both back. Murphy walked behind them and grabbed her younger brother by the shoulder, pulling him away from Michael.

"Leave". She said, pushing him away. "Get away from him, tell 'ma never to go back".

Murphy would never forget Noah's face; utter defeat.

"Please". She whispered, "just go, Noah".

Michael staggered onto his feet, he wasn't finished. Murphy turned to face him and ended up punching him in the stomach, he fell onto his knees, coughing. "Jesus".

"Yeah". She mumbled, staring down at him. "You think I'm bad – should meet my friends".

Maggie walked out of the bedroom with the twins, bag packed and ready to leave. Murphy looked over her shoulder and gave her a tiny nod. Maggie left the house, Noah not far behind. So, Michael slouched into a sitting position, staring up at his daughter.

"If 'ye follow them". Murphy whispered, "then I'll come for 'ye, and I won't come alone".

She walked out of the house next and made her way up another flight of stairs. Mrs Patrick never minded taking them in for a few nights. She was a sweet older lady, a widow with no children of her own. Her husband had died three years into their marriage, Mrs Patrick swore she could never love again, so she didn't.

"I'm sorry, pet".

Murphy shook her head, "it's not your fault, 'mammy".

Maggie placed a hand on the side of Murphy's face, "he really did a number on you, Murphy".

"I've had worse". She said softly, with a tiny smile but sad smile. "'Mam? Maybe you should go back to Ireland and stay with Granny?"

"Without him?"

"Yes". Murphy told her, "yeah, without him. I'll make sure 'da stays with friends".

Maggie smiled proudly at her, tears shinning in her eyes. "You're a good person, Murphy. I hope I raised you to be that way".

"You did, 'mammy".

"Give me a cuddle, will 'ye?"

Smiling again, Murphy wrapped her arms around Maggie. And her face dropped, when her mother couldn't see. This would be the last time Murphy would see her mother and she didn't know the next time they'd see each other again. Holding her mother tighter, Murphy closed her eyes and pressed her face against Maggie's chest.

"Oh, my little girl". Maggie whispered, "you'll always be my little girl".

"I'll miss you, 'mammy". Murphy said quietly.

Pulling back, she kissed her daughter's forehead. "You come home to me, pet. And be smart. Don't try and be brave. Just be smart".

Murphy nodded, "I will, 'mammy".

Maggie smiled, "good girl".

"When will I see 'ye?" Noah asked from behind Murphy.

She turned and looked at him. "Not for a while, pally".

He looked at his feet.

"You'll be fine". Murphy closed the distance between them and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It won't". Noah mumbled tearfully.

She sighed softly, "look after them, Noah. That's your job now. And if 'ye don't make it back to Limerick, go to this address". Murphy let go of his shoulder and wrote the address down onto a small piece of paper from her notepad inside her front pocket, "it's good people there. But I want 'ye back to Ireland".

Noah took the address, "who lives there?"

Murphy smiled a little, "Joe the tailor and a fierce Italian woman".

He choked out a tiny laugh, "well…alright then".

She pulled Noah into her chest for a few moments, rubbing his back. "You'll be alright". She mumbled softly, "just – hang tough".

Murphy walked away from Brooklyn and got back on the train. She sat down in an empty compartment, letting out a long sigh. It was a short visit home, but Murphy was glad she had done something right for her family. Getting them back to Ireland was the best options in keeping them safe while she went off to fight a war.

She ended up falling asleep an hour into her long journey.

Only a few guys from Easy returned home early, one of them being Bloser.

"Have you been fighting?"

Murphy shrugged, "yeah, I suppose".

He huffed, watching while she put her bag down. "With who?"

"It's fine, Rob". She told him lightly, "it's dealt with".

Murphy didn't want to talk about it, it was already in the past. All that mattered now was her family were safe and heading far away from Michael. Bloser didn't ask any further questions regarding her face, which was probably for the best.

When she woke up the next morning, however, there was an ugly bruise under her eye. Murphy frowned, staring at her reflection in the latrines. This was going to raise a few heads. Rubbing her forehead and closing her eyes for a moment, Murphy took in a deep breath and soon walked out of the latrines.

"What the fuck happened to your face?" Liebgott demanded. "Who did that?"

Sighing softly, she shook her head. "Just leave it, Lieb. It's been dealt with".

He walked over to her, "tell me".

"No, come on". Murphy mumbled, walking passed him, but he grabbed her arm.

"You better fucking tell me, Murph".

"Jesus Christ, Leib". She whispered. "What are you 'gonna do about it? Head up to Brooklyn and knife the guy?"

He nodded, "yeah – yeah, I will".

Murphy huffed softly.

Liebgott's eyes were hard, and he was back at being intense. Murphy was used to this, they all were getting used to his moods. Leibgott acted this way because he cared. But she didn't like that he was acting out on her behalf.

"Come on". She mumbled, "calm down, alright? Everything's fine, I promise".

The barrack was tense for those few moments, while Liebgott continued to stare at her and Murphy had looked away at some point. Though, they all did want to know who had decided to give Murphy a black eye and a bruised nose.

"Lieb". She said to the ground quietly, "I've had worse. Come on".

He released her arm, Murphy sighed, and her shoulders dropped.

"Alright, good". She looked back up at him, with a tiny smile. "Good".

Liebgott's eyes softened, looking less intense and angry now.

"But seriously, who did it?" Malarkey asked her.

Murphy huffed out a tiny laugh, "no one important, Malark".

One or two people came back a day late and the entire 506 witnessed them being drummed out. It was awful and made Murphy feel a little sick, while she watched this guy have his badge and jump wings ripped from his uniform, all the while the drummer played a steady beat on the snare. Col Sink wanted to teach his Battalion, that he would not tolerate this sort of behaviour. And they learned a lesson that day; don't be late after a furlough.

Training resumed and it was back to being invisible for Murphy again, just the way she liked it.

Runs, PT and lectures.

It was very repetitive and not a lot happened.

Sobel had to improvise to keep his Company sharp. One night, he let off grenades outside the barrack. Everyone quickly jumped out of bed and ran outside, in the freezing weather in just their nightclothes with no boots or socks. Sobel punished everyone for not wearing boots. For the rest of the night, they all dug holes in their bear feet. It was hard at the time, but Murphy got a kick out of it the next day.

"We looked bloody stupid!" She said cheerfully, "in our skins, shivering and digging holes".

It was later, during the night and Murphy was finding it hard to sleep. She got up and ended up sneaking outside, hoping the cool air and a short walk would help the situation. Murphy was always a rubbish sleeper, since a young child. Her mother never knew because Murphy didn't bother her with the issue, she just kept herself entertained until she felt tired enough to sleep. It was restless legs which kept her most of the night, a very annoying condition she endured a lot. And Murphy didn't want to wake up her friends from her constant shifting, so she decided to leave the barrack and take a walk around camp.

Murphy walked towards the planes, which were lined up giants under the starry sky. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked up at the nose of the plane, not quite believing she had jumped out from one.

"Corporal Flynn".

Dropping her hands to her side, Murphy turned around.

"It's a bit late, is it not?" Winters asked her quietly.

"It is, sir". She agreed softly.

Lips twitching, he soon joined her side. And looked at the plane. Murphy followed his gaze, while a small gust of wind tickled her hair and the back of her neck. She scratched the back of her neck, fingers pushing blonde locks to the side. Winters turned his head to the side, watching her carefully.

Everything she did, she did it so carefully. Whether it was digging a hole, cleaning her boots or even just moving a piece of hair out from her eyes. Seconds probably past while she worked on each task, but it was minutes for Winters.

Murphy was quiet but he was beginning to see another side of her. Little selfless acts of taking care of the men or even getting to know them because she was interested to hear where they came from before joining the paratroopers. She had kept her head down, never took a yelling from Sobel because he had failed to notice her most of the time. Just like they had for the first few days of her arrival. But it took Winters a lot longer. She had passed phase two, without his knowledge.

"…think that would be okay, sir?"

Blinking, Winters cleared his throat. "Sorry. I didn't catch that, Corporal Flynn".

Smiling a little, Murphy looked at him. "Can I try-out for the sparring team, sir?"

"Uh – yeah, that's fine". He agreed with a nod, "Sargent Lipton is in-charge of sorting out the team".

"Thanks, sir". She responded evenly.

Winters smiled, "I'm glad you're going to join in with something".

Murphy shrugged, "well…it might as well be something I like, sir".

"Fighting?"

"No, sir". She chuckled softly, "controlled aggression, sir. I like the way you have to read what your competitor is going to do next".

He nodded slowly, "it's a good sport".

"What sports do you like, sir?"

"I used to wrestle". Winters told her, with a fond smile. "That was my favourite sport".

Murphy nodded, "a good contact sport, sir".

"Yeah, I guess, Corporal". He then said, "speaking of fighting…where did you get that black eye?"

Her eyes flickered back up towards the plane. "It's alright, sir".

"Is it?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah". She assured him lightly, "I don't think we have to worry about that, sir".

Winters wanted to find out, the whole Company wanted to know. Because she was harmless. And because it angered him to know someone had done that to her. But if she didn't want to tell him, then Winters wouldn't push her for an answer. "Why are you out here, Corporal?"

"Ah – I get restless legs, sir". Murphy told him, "bloody thing keeps me awake sometimes".

He smiled, amused by her slightly annoyed voice.

"It's like I have to bend and stretch them all the time, sir". She looked up and noticed him smiling, Murphy huffed softly. "Well, I'm glad someone finds it funny, sir".

He chuckled quietly, "my apologies, Corporal".

She smiled, with an easy shrug. "It's alright, sir".

Winters cleared his throat, "well – does walking help?"

"A good amount, sir". Murphy replied, "I'll hopefully get some sleep".

He nodded, with another smile. "I'll walk you back, wouldn't want someone to catch you".

"Good idea, sir".

They both turned away from the planes and began the walk back to the barracks. It felt nice being around Winters, it was a feeling of security and honesty. He was one of the most respected officers in Easy, perhaps one of the most respected men in the whole 506. Just having him talk with her, felt like a privilege to Murphy.

"Goodnight, sir". She told him softly, once they reached her barrack.

Winters set her an etched smile, which was soft and kind. "Goodnight, Murphy".

Murphy bit down her lip and carefully opened the door.

When it closed, she let out a quiet breath.


	3. Chapter 3

"Go!"

Bam!

Murphy could have sworn her ears were ringing. And she fell to the ground.

"Stop – Murph". Lipton was on his knees, "hey, you good?"

Sighing, she sat up and nodded.

"Good, get back up". He clapped her shoulder and Murphy got back onto her feet. The guy she was fighting was from Able Company, he was taller and bulkier than her. But she chose to fight him because Murphy wanted to see how'd she do with someone a lot bigger than her. And it was a hard fight to watch, Bloser was practically covering his eyes with his hand. "Aim low". Lipton told her quietly, while he stepped between the pair of them.

Murphy got into position, thinking on where to hit him.

"Go!"

She avoided the first swing, though wasn't successful with the next, which hit her stomach. Taking in a sharp breath, Murphy stepped to the side when his hand swung at her again. She regressed back to her first sparring with Bloser for a few moments, just until she figured out what the hell, she was going to do next.

"Hit him!" Bloser yelled, "for fuck sake, Murph!"

It was always nice when Bloser came along to practise, just to cheer her on, however, he could be a distraction. Especially when he yelled or gasped too loudly. Murphy did plan on hitting him, Bloser didn't need to worry about her, she was just working this guy out. He was smart, quick but Murphy could be quicker, and she was, having avoided a good amount of punches and kicks. Murphy couldn't knock this guy out, but she could tire him out.

She avoided heavy swings.

And Murphy eventually kicked him in the shin.

He staggered, just a little and she punched the space between his left rib and hip.

"Foul!"

"Fuck off!" Bloser yelled back to the guy sitting close by, he was from Able.

From there, Murphy uppercut his chin.

"Yes!" He yelled, "little Irish!"

She quickly took a step back, while he straightened himself up. By this point, they were both bleeding. Murphy was aching, he was aching, and Lipton closed the fight, the guy from Able won that round. She walked over to the corner of the ring and wiped her face with a towel. Bloser quickly walked over to her.

"You could knock him?"

Murphy shook her head, "can't knock him out, pally".

"Why?" His face fell.

"It's controlled aggression". She reminded him quietly, "besides, he's twice my size".

Bloser handed her the canteen of water, "drink – and fuck him up. His friend is starting to get on my fucking nerves. There might be two fights, if he ain't careful".

Murphy grinned, "he better be careful. Best not get into Rob's wrath".

He nodded firmly, taking the canteen back after she took a drink. "Exactly, Murph".

During the second round, Murphy got one decent punch in and this angered him. Which wasn't very good, seeing as this was about controlled aggression. Murphy blocked her face, while he punched her sides and then came one blow to the stomach, which caused her arms to drop from her face.

"Stop!" Lipton yelled.

Too late. This guy had already smashed her face and Murphy was on the ground, knocked out.

Lipton got onto his knees beside her. He then looked up and glared at him, "get the hell out of my ring, now!"

Bloser leaped into the ring and sat on the other side of her. "She's out cold, Sarge!"

"Yup, get a medic".

When he left, Lipton sighed and gave her cheek a little slap. "Come on, Murph. Wake up".

She did wake up a few seconds after, "what an arse". Murphy mumbled.

He smiled small, nodding. "He is…you good?"

Grunting, she slowly sat herself up and took off her gloves. "Yeah, Sarge". She told him lightly, with a tiny smile. "I'll be bouncing back here".

Despite a busted-up face and a few bruises on her stomach and ribs, Murphy was fine.

Her friends were livid.

Guarnere, Liebgott and Toye went over to Able, threatening to sort this guy out. And the next day, he apologised to Murphy for losing his marbles and not stopping. She accepted his apology and asked for a re-match because the last one didn't end well, obviously. He agreed, they shook hands and that was the end of that. But sparring was put to the back of her mind, training took over.

They had arrived in camp Mackall in March, where they had made a few more jumps out from planes. Once at night and once during the day, in full gear. When they weren't jumping, they were going over tactics, compass readings and squad formations. Murphy found all of that interesting. She liked learning about military tactics, how to operate different weapons and how to organise a squad. She was placed in 1st rifle squad with Lipton as their leader. Along with her were Toye, Bloser and Popeye. It was a good squad. Winters was highly impressed, Sobel wasn't, of course, but that was nothing new there.

"Fire!"

Bang!

It was Murphy's first bulls-eye.

Bloser grinned and clapped her shoulder, "you did it, Irish".

"Good job, boys". Lipton told them, "let's reverse, do it again".

Camp Mackall was heaven compared to Benning and Toccoa, they even had a movie theatre here. Murphy had never seen a movie before and the guys decided to take her on a Sunday afternoon, once they finished reading their letters. Murphy sat down on a chair and looked up at the giant screen in front of her. When the credits rolled, the men let out a collective groan.

"I ain't going back to fucking Oz!" Penkala exclaimed, "every Goddam time".

Murphy liked the Wizard of Oz, it was like her imagination being played out in front of her. And she leaned back, arms crossed and thought about Noah. He would have loved this film, even at the age he was. Murphy sighed quietly, willing herself to stop thinking about her family. There was no point, they'd be setting sail across the Atlantic soon and heading back to Ireland. Without Michael, she hoped. God, if he went with them…Murphy wouldn't lose her mind, but she would be greatly disappointed. And she'd probably swim across the ocean, just to grab Michael and lock him away for good.

Her hand clenched into a fist.

Murphy took in a breath, calming herself. There was no use in jumping to accusation or jumping into the Atlantic when that might not even be the case. She wouldn't leave this thought alone though, not until she knew her mother and little brothers were in Limerick and away from their father.

She moved a strand of hair from her eye, which was still bruised from sparring.

Well, at least Murphy could control her anger.

Unlike Michael, who was a lose cannon.

"What'd you think?" Popeye asked, once the movie was over.

"Great". She responded, "flying monkeys, a green lady – poetry".

He chuckled, "right?"

Penkala sighed, "I'm never going back there again – fucking Oz".

Murphy and Popeye both looked at each other and laughed.

It was hard to stay down about things for long, especially with these guys around.

…

"Rob?"

"What?"

"You're not low enough".

Bloser frowned and lowered himself further. Murphy smiled and gave him the thumbs up. Smirking, he shook his head and looked away from her.

Easy were doing their first field exercise. Where everything they had been taught during training, finally came into part.

Currently, most of 2nd were hunkered down in a ditch, while Sobel was at the front of this ditch, looking out with a pair of binoculars. He looked like an idiot because he had gotten them all lost. They had been running in circles after that man, almost all day and it was painful to watch him try and get his Company in the correct position. Right now, Sobel might have hoped he was in the right place, but Easy knew better. This man was lost. Seriously lost. So, lost in fact, that if the enemy team was staring him right in the face, he'd look the other way. And he was not only lost but he was jumpy, twitchy and nervous. With every sound, even if it was just someone stepping on a twig from their own team, or his own boot kicking a stone, Sobel would yell for everyone to "get down!"

What a looney.

"Petty! Map!" Sobel hissed, once he had turned around, looking at the back.

"Oh, Christ". Petty whispered, before walking over to him.

Bloser sighed quietly and looked down at Murphy, who was staring ahead. He tutted softly, how was it that she looked like nothing bothered her? Bloser found it hard to keep emotions from his face but that's why Murphy liked him so much. Because he was honest, open and genuine. Like most of the guys from Easy, there weren't a lot of bad seeds. With the wash-outs gone, Easy really were only left with the best – except Sobel.

"We're in the wrong position!" He exclaimed, in a hushed voice.

Lipton looked over at his squad, he could see the looks of displease. Even Murphy's eyebrows twitched a little. Well, if she was angry, then it must be bad. Luckily, he overheard Winters.

"We're text-book position for ambush, sir". He said to their CO, "I think we should sit tight, let the enemy team come into our killing zone".

"They're right out there somewhere". Sobel almost looked like a child, "let's just get them!"

"Sir, we have perfect cover here". Winters tried, he did. But there was no reasoning with Sobel. The man always had to be right, even if the wrong was about to kill his entire Company.

"Lieutenant deploy your troops".

He turned around to face them, "2nd Platoon, move out!"

Muck frowned, "what?"

"Tactical column!"

Of course, almost everyone died. And Sobel had to pick six wounded men, and he happened to pick Murphy that day. Dropping her weapon, she fell to the ground, playing wounded. She wasn't a very good actor and proving to be a very unconvincing patient. Eugene Roe, their top medic, was by her side.

"Let's see…you got hit in the leg". He mumbled softly, "now, we 'outta see if the bullet went through first".

Murphy tilted her head to the side, watching him closely.

"Looks like the bullet went through". Gene looked at her, "this might be painful. I'll give you some morphine".

A tiny smile reached her lips, "for real?"

Gene had a lovely smile. "No, Flynn. Not for real".

Murphy leaned back against the tree, most of Easy were heading back to camp. Toye was one of the wounded as well, though he was smoking a cigarette, which irked Ralph Spina, the medic attending the "wound" on the side of his neck.

"You wouldn't be smoking if you was hit on the fucking neck".

"Gotta have that last smoke before lights out, Ralph".

"I'll make sure you do go lights out, Toye".

Murphy smiled a little and turned back to look down at her leg.

"How're those bruises?" Gene asked her, "still got that one bruise under your eye".

She touched the bruise gingerly, "it's fine, Gene".

A guy from the medical transport team, soon presented themselves with a stretcher. Murphy sighed quickly and nodded towards it.

"That for me then, pal?"

"You bet – hop on".

Murphy smirked, "can't do that, I've been hit".

Gene chuckled quietly, "alright, princess. I'll carry you".

"Princess?" She nodded slowly, "I like that one".

Smiling still, he reached down and picked her up. "Your carriage awaits".

Murphy smiled and soon cleared her throat, "alright, that's enough. Get me to an aid station".

Gene nodded and carefully set her down on the stretcher. "All done".

"I feel loads better".

When she made it back into the barrack with Toye, Winters was giving a debrief on their exercise. He explained what went wrong, being careful not to insult Sobel in the process and used words like, "misled" and "drifted off course", he was a clever man. And then he moved onto things they could do to improve their next field exercise.

Get rid of Sobel. That's what everyone was thinking. No one said it of course.

"Any questions?" Winters asked, drawing the debrief to a close.

No one raised their hand.

Nodding, he got up from the bed. "Alright, good job today".

When he left, there was a dull silence. And when their officer was away from earshot, everyone had something to complain about. Sobel's a this, Sobel's a that – he's going to get us killed.

Biting her lip, Murphy escaped the barrack without being noticed and sure enough, Winters was standing close to the door. She closed it with a tiny frown.

He cleared his throat, "seems you're all a little…peeved".

Murphy nodded, "it'll be fine, sir".

"You think that, Corporal?"

"I do, sir". She responded evenly, "we have good Platoon leaders, sir".

Winters's face softened at that.

Murphy cleared her throat, "besides, I'm injured". She gestured towards her leg, "I'll be off the grid for a few weeks, sir".

He snorted softly, "I'm wishing you a speedy recovery, Corporal".

She raised a smile, "thank you, sir".

Winters cracked a smile back, "alright, Murphy. I think you've cheered me up".

She looked bemused, "that's – good, sir?"

He fixed her an amused look, "yeah, it is, Corporal".

Murphy's face went back to it's natural, impassive look. "Sir, it was a good job".

"The field?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Not the outcome, sir". She admitted quietly, "I think, we stayed focused throughout our run around in that forest, sir. And we had a good idea in the end". Murphy's voice quietened then, trying not to sound too abrupt, "it's just a shame it wasn't noted, sir".

A little staggered, Winters nodded. Knowing she meant his idea. He just never expected to hear her say what she was really thinking.

Murphy walked back into the barrack, heading towards Bloser.

"You look weird".

She shook her head, sitting back on her bed.

Bloser sighed, "everyone's pissed off, Murph. What we 'gonna do?"

Murphy shrugged, "nothing, pal".

"Really?"

"What can we do?" She asked him quietly.

Bloser was quiet for a few moments, "I was hoping you'd have an answer". He admitted sheepishly, while rubbing his arm.

She set him a neutral stare. "Me?"

"Yup". He confirmed, eagerly nodding his head.

Murphy's eyes flicked towards Lipton, who was talking quietly with Guarnere and Grant.

"Well?"

"No". She replied, "not me, pal".

Sighing heavily, Bloser dramatically flopped onto his bed. "We're fucked".

Pursing her lips together, Murphy looked back over at Bloser, who was lying on his back, hands covering his head. Shaking her head with a tiny smirk, Murphy got onto her feet and sat on the edge of his bed, giving his chest a tiny prod.

"What?" He muttered into his hands.

"Come on, pal. There's no use in worrying, what you can't control it".

Bloser sat up, "right". He took his hands away from his face, "so, what'd we do now?"

"Wait for orders". Murphy said, "like we always do, Rob".

On the 31st of July, Murphy turned twenty and Easy were learning basic horse riding.

Some of the men were experts, others had never sat on a horse.

Murphy was doing okay, she was on a black horse called Bolt. That name didn't fill her with much confidence. And while Bloser rode like he had never left the saddle, Murphy found it hard because Bolt, wanted to bolt.

The Sargent who was leading this trek was from Baker Company and he was a patient man. They took it easy for the first thirty minutes and eventually picked up the pace into a trot. And while most of the horses complied, Bolt was eager. Murphy didn't feel nervous, knowing that nerves would worsen the situation. She just held on and tried to pull him back a little, Bolt didn't like being pulled back.

"Your horse ain't so nice, Murph". Bloser said.

She her head to face him, "what do I do, Rob?"

"Hold on".

Bolt's head came up, smacking Murphy on the side of the face. She heard a crack, Bloser heard it too. They both frowned at the sound, until she felt something wondering around in her mouth. Placing a hand under her chin, she ended up spitting out a part of her tooth, which came from one of her back teeth. Murphy looked over at Bloser.

"Is that bad?"

His eyes were a little wide, "I'm not sure".

Murphy didn't know either, so she put that part of tooth into her pocket.

Bloser laughed, "what the fuck, Murph?"

Blot did end up bolting but only for a good ten seconds. Murphy didn't fall off, but she felt like she had no breaks. That was the worst he did and when she dismounted the horse Murphy walked over to Lipton.

"Hey, Sarge?"

"Yeah, Murph?" He asked, looking over at her.

Murphy took out the tooth from her pocket, "this fell out".

Lipton laughed, a little surprised. "How?"

She gestured towards Bolt, "he smacked me, Sarge".

"Impressive". He mused, looking down at her tooth. "Go and see doc".

There was no saving that part of her tooth, but the regimental dentist filled in her half tooth at the back and Murphy's face was numb for the rest of the day.

Happy birthday to me, she thought lightly.

Lieutenant Welsh took over 1st Platoon. He was a fellow Irishman. Murphy had overheard Martin informing Malarkey after Welsh met his men. He seemed like a nice enough guy, better than Sobel – a guy's soldier. He got along well with his Platoon and even some guys from 2nd and 3rd. Welsh was a very likeable officer, much like Winters and Nixon. And the three of them quickly formed a close friendship.

Murphy was going to miss Mackall. She really liked it here.

"Hey, Murph". Guarnere sat down next to her. "How's that tooth?"

Snorting, she ran a hand through her hair. "Fine, Bill".

The sun was setting below the treeline. The two troopers were sitting on the grass. Enjoying the last rays of warm sun. Guarnere took out a cigarette and lit it up, leaning back on one of his hands.

"Heard from your 'ma?"

Murphy shook her head, "probably been busy".

"Probably". He said, "no news with my mom or pop, so they ain't there".

"Good". She said quietly.

Guarnere didn't know much, just that they might have needed a place to stay low for a few days. Murphy asked him because he wouldn't asked too many questions. And he didn't, he agreed to it pretty quickly. Assuring Murphy that his parents wouldn't mind, the house was almost empty anyway. Most of his siblings had moved out, gotten married and had kids of their own.

"You met Welshy?"

"Not yet". Murphy said, "heard good things".

Guarnere nodded, "funny guy, Irish".

"Yeah". She smiled, "least Malak won't feel left out, eh?"

He chuckled at that, "oh, cause he's the immigrant here, huh?"

Murphy coughed out a quiet laugh. She leaned back against her hands, "how's Henry?"

"Good". He said, "still in Africa. Say's it's hot".

She nodded slowly, with a tiny grin.

"Ah – don't be a wiseass". Guarnere tutted, "you know he don't say much about fighting".

"I know, he's not aloud to pass information back".

"Exactly, Murph".

She looked up towards the sky, "he seen any elephants or the likes?"

Guarnere was quiet for a few moments, "he saw a lion".

"That's nifty". Murphy commented, "wouldn't mind seeing a lion".

"Big fucking cat…Henry though it was 'gonna take off his head".

She smiled.

Guarnere chuckled, "imagine that, huh?"

"Yeah…some way to go, pal".

"Nice being twenty, huh?"

Murphy smiled with a short breath, "oh, it's alright".

Guarnere looked at her, "I always thought you were younger". He said, "guess I was wrong".

"Rob's younger than me". She told him, "was only seventeen when he joined".

"Idiot". He muttered, "just a kid".

"He's alright". Murphy mumbled softly. "What would you rather have, Bill? This, or a shit life back home?"

Guarnere smiled small, nodding. "Alright, I get your point".

She faced the front again, "I'm glad my 'da was insane enough, wouldn't be here otherwise".

He clapped her shoulder, "me too, Murph".

…

The 506 were sitting on a train platform, getting ready to leave for their next destination.

Murphy had helped with loading up the carriages with their gear.

She hopped out of the train once she placed a few bags up in the overhead compartments.

"Murph". Toye gave her a nod, he was sitting with Popeye, Liebgott, Cobb and Shifty. The five of them looked comfortable enough. Though, their faces said otherwise.

"He screwed up one manoeuvre". Shifty told the others quietly.

Oh, they were talking about Sobel. That's why they looked pissed.

"Ah, you know, I'm always fumbling with grenades". Liebgott told them slyly, "would be easy if one went off by accident, you know…".

"Well, they must have put him in charge for a reason". Shifty pointed out softly.

He snorted, "yeah, cause the army wouldn't make a mistake, right, Shift?"

It was probably a good thing Lipton had heard that, Murphy thought.

Besides, she had other things on her mind other than Liebgott accidently blowing Sobel up.

She hadn't received one single letter from her mother.

Surely, if they were in Limerick, Murphy would have heard something by now.

But she hadn't and it made her a little nervous.

"Let's move out!"

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy turned back towards the train and stepped inside.

"Where the hell – Murph!"

She looked up, "right here, Rob".

Bloser laughed, "right – let's get a seat, come on".

The pair of them sat opposite Popeye and Liebgott. And after the conversation she heard, Murphy didn't know if it was such a good idea. Though she couldn't blame him for being a little intense about the whole Sobel situation, everyone was feeling the strain of having him lead them all into combat and potentially getting everyone of them killed. Liebgott didn't mention it, thankfully and Murphy's mind relaxed.

"You know where we're going?" Bloser asked the two of them.

Popeye shook his head, "nope. They don't tell us much".

"It's not like we're 'gonna tell a fucking Kraut or Jap". Liebgott muttered. "Murph? Why don't you make yourself invisible and spy?"

At first, she thought he was kidding and laughed. But he wasn't laughing back.

"Not a bad idea". Bloser said, with a shrug.

Murphy's eyebrows twitched together, "really?"

"Oh, go on, Murph!" Popeye urged, "we won't relax until we know".

Sighing quietly, Murphy got onto her feet, she was an idiot and too passive. The three of them grinned, happy to have her agree to this. And Murphy didn't even know where to look first, until she spotted Nixon walking past her. He had been promoted to S-2, intelligence. Well, surely if anyone was to know, it would be him. Murphy followed him.

He wasn't even aware of Murphy following him, or when she sat on the seat behind him, while he leaned over, to where Winters was. Welsh was beside the red-head, fast asleep.

"Going my way?"

"Wherever the train takes me…". Winters responded evenly.

"Where do you suppose that might be?"

"I haven't a clue".

"Go on, take a guess". He pressed quietly, "Atlantic? Pacific? Atlantic?"

Winters looked up from the letter he was writing, "I'm not the intelligence officer".

"Well, as such". Nixon leaned forwards again, "I of course, know. But if I told you, I'd have to kill you".

"So, don't tell me".

When Nixon got up, Murphy slipped into the seat he left.

He was soon sitting opposite Winters, "New York City, troop ship, England". He said, while reaching into his pocket to bring out his flask, "we're invading Europe, my friend". Nixon offered Winters a drink, who was more amused by that. "Fortress Europa".

"Since when do I drink?" Winters had the smallest of smirks.

"If I thought you'd drink it, I wouldn't offer it to you".

Murphy slouched down on the seat. They were going to fight the Germans. Interesting.

"Nix?" She heard Winters ask. "What are you 'gonna do when you get into combat?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Oh, I have every confidence in my scrounging abilities". Nixon said, as if waving off his mild concern. "And I have a case of Vat 69 hidden in your footlocker".

Winters chuckled. Until he stopped. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah". Nixon said, sounding impressed that his friend hadn't noticed yet. And that he had even thought of this brilliant idea to begin with. Nixon didn't have much of an ego, but he was very smart and quick on his feet. Murphy was sure Winters laughed the hardest with Nixon.

"Morning". Welsh greeted, still sounding groggy.

Alright, now she had to get out of there before they caught her.

There was no one to hide behind this time and no crowd to blend into. Murphy was a little screwed by this point.

"Should we tell him?"

"I don't see why not".

"Tell me what?" Welsh asked.

Slowly, she slid off the seat and landed on all-fours. Now she just looked ridiculous.

"How'd you feel about Krauts, Welshy?" Nixon sounded pleased.

Welsh huffed out a tiny laugh, "Germany, huh?"

Murphy turned around, so she was facing the other direction – just in case they caught her. If she was facing away from them, it would raise eyebrows. Slowly, Murphy got onto her feet. And Nixon noticed her, though just briefly at the first. His eyes only flickered on hers for a moment and Murphy thought she'd be able to slip away but they went back to hers again.

"Corporal Flynn". He smiled, "what brings you down these parts?"

Winters and Welsh both turned around to look at her.

Good question, what was she doing here?

Murphy shook her head, "went for a walk, sir".

"Restless legs, Corporal?" Winters asked, with a fond smile.

Her shoulders dropped – just a little. "Yes, sir".

Murphy had avoided a bullet there. And she felt terrible for spying. She decided not to share this information. They'd find out soon enough. But it was going to be a long journey to New York and keeping her mouth shut. Her eyes flickered towards the window for a moment.

"Everything okay?" Winters asked, showing a small amount of concern.

Murphy turned back to face him, "yes, sir".

Though her face was impassive, her voice didn't match.

"I'll go now, sir". Giving him a nod, Murphy turned and began to walk away.

She made it back to her seat, giving the guys the news that she hadn't heard anything.

"Dam". Liebgott whispered, "you get caught?"

"Eventually". She said, "Captain Nixon spotted me when I was about to walk away".

"Sorry, Murph". Bloser frowned, "we shouldn't have-"

"it's fine, Rob". Murphy assured him softly. "Don't say sorry".

Popeye was out for the count, he must have fallen asleep after she left. Murphy snorted softly, while his head rolled onto Liebgott's shoulder, who didn't try and shove it off. They had spent each and every second of the day together, having a shoulder drop onto your shoulder was nothing new. And soon, Bloser's head was pressing up against the window, eyes closed.

The train was warm and packed. Most of the men dropped off into a light slumber.

Murphy had been sitting in her own world for the better part of two hours. Wondering mostly about her family, hoping they were safe and away from Michael. But because she hadn't heard from them, she doubted it. Her only hope was that they'd be given sometime to leave camp and perhaps she'd get to Brooklyn, just to make sure they had left.

That was a fool's hope. They were under Sobel's command.

Sighing, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

Soon drifting off into sleep, much like her friends.


	4. Chapter 4

Sure enough, they spent two weeks in Shanks without a furlough or a weekend pass.

The S.S Samaria, was a large ship sitting neatly at the Brooklyn harbour. A slap in Murphy's face, if she was being honest. She had taken a lot of punches to the face, this one was the toughest. Her family could have been right there, and she wasn't allowed to go and see. So, she walked on the gangplank, wedged between Easy and almost getting shoved in the water. Seemed everyone was in some kind of rush.

Finally, on the ship now, they all headed down towards the belly of the ship, the lowest part of the ship; the shittiest part of the ship. The entire 101st Airborne were being forced down here, bunking in hammocks, five pilled on top of each other, two on either side. There wasn't enough room to walk, shoulders were constantly bumping into one another, while they all claimed a spot but as it turned out, there wasn't enough hammocks to go around, so it was two to a hammock.

They were sleeping it rough.

They all headed up to the deck, wanting to see this ship leave the dock.

Someone grabbed her shoulder, forcing Murphy to the front of the railings. She stepped up onto the first two bars, so she could see better. Civilians had gathered down at the dock, they were waving little flags, the women were blowing them all kisses, and kids were grinning from ear to ear, while they waved each of them off.

It was nice but even nicer when the sun started to sink behind the Statue of Liberty, while the ship moved slowly away from the dock. The mood was strange, they were leaving home and about to embark on a very dangerous adventure to Europe.

Murphy wobbled a little, when the ship bumped against the dock.

Hands grabbed her waist, steadying her.

"Careful".

She smiled a little, "thanks, Sarge".

Lipton kept his hands there.

And eventually, they all moved back down to the belly of the ship.

This was going to be a long twelve days.

The first few days were fine.

Sobel had tried to run a PT session but there wasn't enough room and after an hour of trying, he gave up and left his men alone. The only way to pass the time was by playing craps, card games, writing letters or shooting the shit. Of course, you could always start a fight. Which happened all too often down in the belly of the ship. Mostly, it was a few guys from Easy and some from another Company but then, they started to turn on each other.

And it started out innocently enough.

"I'm glad I'm going to Europe". Toye was saying, while playing with his knife. "Hitler get's one of these across his windpipe, Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving to Joe Toye Day and pays me ten grand a year for the rest of my fucking life".

"What if we don't get to Europe? What if they send us to North Africa?" Smokey said from the top hammock.

"My brothers in North Africa; say's it's hot". Guarnere commented.

"Really? It's hot in Africa?" Malarkey remarked sarcastically from behind him.

"Shut up". He shot back, "point is, it don't matter where we go. Once we get into combat, the only person you can trust is yourself and the fellow next to you".

"Hey, long as he or she's a paratrooper". Toye added quietly.

"Oh, yeah?" Luz heaved, while he climbed up to his hammock. "What if that paratrooper turns out to be Sobel?"

"If I'm next to Sobel in combat, I'm moving down the line. Hook up with some other officer, like Heyliger or Winters". Christenson said.

"I like Winters". Guarnere nodded, "he's a good man. But when the bullets start flying, I don't know if I want a Quaker doing my fighting for me".

That's when things started to change.

"How do you know he's a Quaker?" Muck asked.

Guarnere got onto his feet, "he ain't a Catholic".

"Neither is Sobel". Malarkey pointed out.

He took a drag from his cigarette, "that pricks a son of Abraham".

And that caught Liebgott's attention, "he's what?"

Guarnere looked up from the ground, where he had stubbed out his cigarette. "He's a Jew".

"Oh, fuck". Liebgott grinned, without humour and jumped down from the hammock. Then, he walked right up to Guarnere's face, "I'm a Jew".

"Congratulations". He said, pushing Liebgott back. "Get your nose 'outta my face".

Liebgott was pushed a few steps back and then, he took a swing at Guarnere, who blocked his punch. Soon, they were pulling them back off each other, while they tried to grab at each other, prepared to fight because it was too dam hot down there, they didn't have enough space to move and everyone was sick and tired of being up each other's asses.

A great weight was soon sat next to her.

Murphy looked up and saw Liebgott, who was still breathing heavily.

Clearing her throat, she looked between the two of them.

"What's at the bottom of the ocean and shivers?"

"What?" Liebgott hissed, pulling an irritated face her way.

She shrugged one shoulder up to her neck, "a nervous wreck".

Guarnere slowly closed his eyes and shook his head, "Jesus Christ".

Bloser laughed, "that was fucking terrible".

"I know". She agreed, "I'm bad at jokes".

"Then don't tell one". Liebgott muttered.

Murphy looked up at him, "alright…best be calming down now, eh?" She said to him quietly.

He took in another deep breath and looked down towards his hands. "Right".

"Besides, I don't care".

"Huh?"

Murphy shrugged, "I don't care what you are, Joe. So long as you're not an arse".

His lips twitched at that, "quit it".

"What's that?"

Liebgott was smiling now, "I don't 'wanna be cheered-up, Murph".

To get away from the hot temperatures below, Murphy would sneak up onto the deck after hours, just to get some peace. She liked the guys but sometimes, they were too loud. And besides, a few of them were starting to get sick because of the rocking ship. They had come under some harsh waves that day and if Murphy heard one more retch, she'd surely get sick herself. After rubbing a few backs and rushing to get Gene, Murphy decided to take a little break and leave the bottom once everyone started to settle down for the night.

But she wasn't alone.

Murphy was leaning against the railings, staring out to open and dark water. They were just a little ship compared to the size of the ocean. And Murphy felt a tiny twinge, right in her chest. Because she felt like a tiny part of something, fighting in an all man's world.

What the fuck am I doing? She thought, shaking her head.

"Are you talking to yourself?"

"No". Murphy said quietly, with a ghost of a smile.

Lipton stood beside her, resting a hand on the railing. "You snuck out".

"I did".

He tilted his head, "I noticed you this time".

She looked up at him, "yeah?"

Smiling small, Lipton nodded and faced the ocean.

Murphy continued to stare at him. "What are you leaving, Sarge?"

His eyebrows pulled together, "Huntington, West Virginia – you?"

She sighed quietly, "I have no idea".

Lipton looked back at her.

Murphy straightened herself up, back growing sore from her hunched position.

"Oldest too, huh?" Lipton guessed softly.

"Three younger brothers". She confirmed quietly.

"I thought that". He said, "you're good with the guys – you know, for a girl".

Murphy smiled with a tiny laugh, "thanks".

He cleared his throat, "young woman". Lipton corrected, "your parents must be proud".

She shrugged, "maybe". Murphy said, "ma is, 'da's indifferent".

"Mom was the same as your dad". Lipton spoke so quietly, that Murphy almost didn't hear him right away. "Suppose she wanted me to stick around for a while longer".

She tilted her head to the side; wanting him to go on.

"Suppose I took the role as the man of the family at a young age".

Murphy nodded slightly.

Lipton sighed, "I – uh – I don't think about them much".

"Me neither". She admitted quietly, "it's fine, Sarge".

"I know". He nodded, with a small snort of amusement. "You avoided every letter".

"I did". Murphy said, "didn't 'wanna get homesick and leave".

"Smart choice". Lipton praised softly.

Blinking, Murphy looked back out towards the ocean.

A crack of a smile soon made its way to his face, "I'm glad you're not sparring anymore".

She opened her mouth to say something, then quickly closed it.

Lipton shrugged, "it's hard watching you get punched in the face, Murph".

Soon, she smiled. "Right".

He looked away from the side of her face and followed her gaze towards the water. Lipton looked up, the sky was clear, and the stars were out, though the waves still rocked the ship. But it was the moon, which was so round and large tonight. And the beams reflected onto the water.

It was a beautiful scene.

No wonder Murphy came up to the deck.

And Lipton had to leave much sooner than he wanted. Murphy stayed and he allowed it.

Murphy wasn't sure what she was trying find in the water, she just wanted an answer.

Where was her family?

…

Day seven on the ship of hell.

Men were getting restless, fish chowder re-appeared hours after digestion.

It wasn't pleasant.

Murphy had done well in not getting sick. She was used to the rough seas, thanks to her journey across the Atlantic before. Bloser was the next to succumb to the dreaded sickness. His head was in a bucket, Murphy was by his side, rubbing his back and trying to lighten his dampened mood. She told a few more horrendous jokes and he laughed into the bucket.

"You're making me feel sicker, you looney".

Murphy grinned, "just tell me to stop, pally".

She yawned softly into her hand.

When was the last time she slept for eight solid hours?

"Oh, is this boring you?" Bloser teased.

"Yup". She remarked back, "think you can manage some water now?"

He lifted his head from the bucket and nodded, "let's give it a go".

The water stayed down, Murphy put the bucket down and saw to it that Bloser was getting into the hammock. She placed a hand on his forehead, not sure why but it was something she did for Noah whenever he got sick. Bloser snorted and closed his eyes.

"Such a girl, Murph".

Smirking, Murphy squeezed his shoulder. "Night, pally".

"Night, Murph".

Murphy sat with him until he fell into a deep sleep. Picking up the bucket, she moved down the narrow strip and headed for the latrines. God, if they could be even classes as latrines. They needed a serious cleaning. Because the ship was so rocky, the men's aiming wasn't up to scratch. Murphy had to wipe a lot of fuckin seats.

She poured the contents from the bucket into the toilet, stomach churning.

With a shudder, Murphy quickly flushed the toilet and got out of the stall.

If there was one thing, she hated the most, it was vomit.

She didn't mind the sight or smell but getting sick herself, that was a different kettle of fish.

Murphy was terrible at being sick. She panicked, which resulted in a huge mess. It was a good thing she had kept her stomach on the okay side of things. But after that, Murphy could feel the contents swish around in her stomach.

Placing her hands on the sink, she leaned into it.

Murphy took in a deep breath and turned on the taps. Running water, who would have thought that eased her panic. They were on a ship, it made no sense, but it made perfect sense to her.

Everyone has a fear. Spiders, the dark, heights. Hers was just embarrassing, she felt.

The spaghetti incident almost broke her. She dodged a bullet there. A big fucking bullet.

Murphy would have rather been knocked out than have to deal with this.

In fact, she'd rather run up Currahee eight times.

Anything. She'd do anything than have to deal with this.

Murphy took in another breath, while her heart hammered against her chest. Her hands were growing sweaty and her knees were practically bashing against each other, from her trembling body. If anyone saw her now, she'd be out of the airborne.

Letting go of the sink, she cupped the water in her hands and splashed it onto her face.

Murphy turned off the taps and made her way back to Easy.

She got back into the hammock with Bloser, resting her head by his feet; which stunk. Murphy's nose twitched at the scent and she closed her eyes, trying to find sleep.

Murphy didn't get sick.

She had dodged another bullet.

Now, it was day eight on this ship and Murphy wanted to get off.

For the whole day, Murphy dedicated her time on the hammock.

She didn't touch the food and stayed well hydrated. No one forced her to eat, everyone was sick of fish chowder. And seeing it in buckets and in the latrines, was enough to put you off food forever. They figured Murphy was starting to feel the effects from being on the ship and left her alone most of the day. Bloser played cards with her, they talked about England and eventually, it was night time.

Murphy opened the door and stepped onto the deck.

Winters was there, leaning against the railings.

She could have left but the door closed, revealing her position.

He smiled small, "evening, Corporal".

"Evening, sir". Murphy whispered.

After a few moments, she walked over and stood beside him.

It was chilly that night, Murphy should have remembered her jacket. She just expected it to be mild, like most summer nights. She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes wondering over the water, while the ship gently rocked against the small bumps.

Something was soon placed on her shoulders.

Murphy blinked. Oh, it was his jacket. Smiling a little shyly, she pulled the ends and covered herself. "Thank you, sir".

"Can't watch you freeze, Murphy". Winters told her softly.

She wanted to lean into his side. For whatever reason. It was an urge. Maybe because he was always so nice to everyone. Or, maybe it was something else. Murphy couldn't, she refused to believe it might have been something else. Because it would only break her in the end. Winters was too good for an Irish immigrant. He was an officer, her Platoon leader.

But he was handsome. With an inviting smile, which carried the right amount of charm.

Would he have placed his jacket over another one of his troopers?

"It's another beautiful night".

Murphy was soon pulled from her thoughts, "it is, sir".

"How cold do you think that water is?" Winters wondered quietly.

"Um – I'm not sure, sir". She then smiled, "I'm not willing to find out".

He chuckled, though it was never too loud.

Murphy wondered what he thought of her.

"Are you excited to see England?"

He was asking a lot of questions tonight.

Murphy cleared her throat, "I am, sir". She replied, "more so to get off the ship".

Winters smiled, "I've always wanted to travel to England. Maybe see some of Scotland".

"Scotland, sir?"

"Yeah". He said lightly, "quite fancy seeing Edinburgh".

Murphy pursed her lips together, hiding the amusement. God, she loved it when the Americans pronounced the capital of Scotland. The Irish were so-so, but the Americans did it for her.

"Something funny, Corporal?"

She frowned a little and looked up. Oh, he had been staring at her the whole time. And Murphy suddenly felt foggy because their eyes were locking into each other. "No, sir". She whispered, breathlessly. "No – nothing funny".

Winters eyes were soft but there was a slight edge to them this time. But it wasn't anger, it was something else. Something she had never seen before.

"Sorry".

"Why?" He whispered.

Murphy shook her head, "I have no idea, sir".

When the door opened, she jumped.

"There you are – Corporal".

It was Nixon.

And their eye contact broke.

Murphy swallowed and shimmied the jacket from her shoulders, handing it back to Winters. She gave him a small smile, "night, sir".

He took the jacket in his hands, staring at it for a moment. "Goodnight, Murphy".

When the door closed, Nixon pulled an amused face. "That was strange".

Clearing his throat, Winters looked up from his jacket. "Something you needed, Lew?"

"Yeah – transports secured for docking at Liverpool. Should arrived on day twelve, as planned".

"Good". He nodded, while putting his jacket back on.

Crossing his arms, Nixon stared at his friend.

Winters sniffed, looking back at him. "What?"

He shook his head slowly, "you tell me, Dick".

"What'd you mean?"

Nixon shrugged, "you like our Corporal, or something?"

He stilled, while zipping the jacket up. "She's – she's a good Corporal".

"Huh-uh".

Winters nodded, continuing with zipping up his jacket.

Nixon smiled a little, "let's head in".

His features softened, when he caught her scent on his jacket. Winters smiled, following Nixon back inside the ship. Was he losing his mind?

He wasn't the only one having a similar dilemma.

God, she felt like such an idiot.

Murphy needed to stop thinking about the jacket. It was just a kind gesture.

He was being a gentleman. Because he was one and she was a female.

Of course, he'd offer his jacket to a young woman, who looked cold.

This ship was driving her mad. Too much sea air, not enough land.

When she reached the belly of the ship, Murphy was making her way to Easy.

She ended up bumping into an already pissed off trooper from Dog Company.

He sighed, roughly pushing her. Murphy fell back and fell into a hammock.

"Watch where you're fucking going!"

Sighing, Murphy got up. "Right – sorry".

That guy wasn't impressed and ended up prodding her shoulder. "Did you just sigh at me?"

She looked up at him, "I did, yeah". Murphy mumbled. "Is it that bad?"

"Yeah – it is".

Murphy really wasn't up for a fight. They weren't in a ring and she didn't have gloves.

He shoved her again.

Fuck it. She thought. Murphy straightened herself out and punched him.

He was a little surprised, it came so suddenly. And the fist collided into his cheek.

Murphy took a small step back, watching him carefully.

He spat out some blood on the ground. "You're fucking dead".

She nodded, "yeah, probably".

A small crowd from Dog gathered around them, egging their fellow buddy on.

He took swings, she avoided them.

She took another swing and smacked him in the face.

It was like being in the ring again, but her knuckles were spent.

When he did get her, it was where she had lost part of her tooth and the filling popped out. Murphy pulled a face, "ah – now I've got to get that re-filled". She mumbled.

He didn't find it funny and punched her under the eye.

Murphy's eyes watered a little. That was a sore one.

"Get 'em, Steve!"

And then, finally, some of the guys from Easy started to notice.

"Aw for fuck – Murph!" Guarnere was pissed. He stood between them, "get the hell away from him, what the fuck are you doing?!"

She shrugged, "he wanted a fight".

Grabbing her shoulder, Guarnere moved her away from the circle. "Fights over!"

"Hey!" Steve yelled, "you got some right-hook!"

Murphy turned to face him again, "I need a dentist. You're an arse".

To her surprise, Steve laughed.

Shaking her head, with a tiny grin, Murphy allowed Guarnere to lead her back.

"Sit". He ordered, "doc! Make sure she hasn't broken her fucking hands!"

Her hands weren't broken but the next day, her tooth hurt like hell and there was a bruise under her eye. Murphy rubbed the side of her cheek, shaking her head.

"I need a dentist".

Bloser sighed, "he won't have his tools, Murph".

Murphy's face scrunched up in pain, "this hurts a lot".

And they did feel bad for her, she didn't start the fight, after all.

As it turned out, the regimental dentist did have his tools and he wasn't happy about seeing Murphy again. He led her a few floors up and into the sickbay. Murphy sat down on the bed, still rubbing her cheek. The dentist told her to lie down, while he brought out his large numbing needle.

"Short scratch".

Murphy opened her mouth. The relief from not feeling the pain made her sigh.

"Better?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She gave him the thumbs up. Though it was sore on her hands. Her knuckles were bruised and cut from giving out hard punches without the protection of gloves.

"This is the last time, Corporal".

She nodded, "okay".

Well, at least day ten was passing by.

Later on, mouth not so numb anymore, Murphy was sitting on her hammock and playing cards with Bloser, Toye and Guarnere. Winters soon showed up, not looking very happy.

"A word, Corporal Flynn".

Murphy put down her hand of cards and got up.

Winters placed a hand on her shoulder, leading her up a level.

She rubbed her lips, trying to think of what to say.

Though, when Winters saw her bruise, his face softened. "Is it sore?" He asked, reaching out and placing a hand on the side of her face, examining the bruise closely.

Murphy's whole body stilled. Though her insides were going crazy.

"Did you put ice on it?"

She gave her head a tiny shake, "no, sir".

Sighing, Winters dropped his hand. "What happened?"

Murphy reached up and placed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I lost my-"

"your hands, Murphy". He whispered, gently taking her hand into his. "Have you had them looked at?"

"Yeah". Murphy croaked, "yes, sir".

Winters's eyes flickered towards her, "they're okay?"

She nodded.

"Alright". He let go of her hand.

It suddenly felt cold without his to hold. Murphy swallowed. "Sorry, sir".

Winters shook his head, "I was just worried".

She tilted her head to the side.

He cleared his throat, "and you – you saw a dentist?"

"I did, sir". Murphy told him softly, "tooth is filled".

He cracked a small smile, "good to hear".

And she smiled back at him, "it is, sir".

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn't awkward, or tense. It was blissful. Their eyes locked together, like they were having their own conversation. Only, Murphy didn't know what they were telling each other. It was hard to see what he was thinking. But she adored his eyes. She couldn't quite work out if they were blue or green. It was hard to tell. She could have sworn they were blue in the light. They weren't blue like hers, Winters were paler. Softer. Kinder.

This was wrong.

But why didn't it feel that way?

Murphy didn't know who broke the eye contact first.

Did hours pass? Minutes? She had no idea.

"No more fights, Murphy". Winters told her, quietly.

"No more, sir". She promised.

Though, she would get into so much more, if it meant he'd hold her hand again.

…

Day eleven. By far, the longest day.

They were on their last stretch of the journey.

Tomorrow, they'd finally reach land.

Murphy, like the rest, couldn't wait to stand on stable ground again and she couldn't wait to stretch her arms out without hitting someone. But the journey wasn't so bad. Not bad at all.

Thanks to a certain someone.

Just a small peak inside heaven, that's the way Murphy saw it. Fantasies, ever growing strong. And flickering moments of what could be. Though torture, she'd smile at them. Because they were perfect. In her mind, they could live out the war together and they could conquer all, together.

Hand in hand.

"Sorry".

Murphy shook her head, "it's fine".

Gene finished bandaging up her hands. "Keep those on for a few days, Flynn".

"Right". She whispered, raising her hand to view the bandage wrapped around it.

"That should save it from infection". He said, "no more punching".

Murphy smiled a little, "alright, Gene".

"Nice gloves". Bloser commented with humour, "you did a good job, doc".

Gene smiled in light amusement, "thank you, Bloser".

Murphy jumped down from the hammock.

Now what?

Well, Private Vest had orders to give out the letters handed to him before they departed from Brooklyn. This was the perfect time, it would boost the morale for everyone. However, it was taking him a while to locate a "Corporal Flynn".

Murphy had noticed the guy walk up and down the strip.

"Corporal Flynn!"

She got up sharply, "me – here!"

Sighing, Vest grinned. "Shit, sorry, Murphy. Couldn't find you".

Shaking her head, Murphy took the letter from him. "It's fine…thanks, Vest".

Murphy ripped the envelope open and unfolded the letter.

Her eyes danced through each word.

And when she finished. Murphy sat heavily on the hammock.

Bloser frowned, looking her way. She was sitting so still, Murphy might have disappeared. And instead of asking what was wrong, he simply took the letter from her hands and read over it.

"Shit". He whispered, tearing his eyes away from the page. "Come on, let's go".

Soon, the two of them were out on the deck.

Murphy was leaning on the railings, head tucked between her arms. Bloser had a hand on her back, while he stared out towards the ocean. It wasn't the sort of news she was hoping for. And what made it worse, she couldn't go to them.

"What's Polio anyway?" She mumbled into her hands, "why's Noah got it?"

"I don't know, Murphy". He whispered softly.

Raising her head, she let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead.

Bloser watched her carefully.

"It's just shit". She said, "if they had told me, I'd-"

"Murph". He cut her off softly, "there's nothing you could have done".

Chewing the inside of her mouth, Murphy eventually nodded.

"They're in Limerick". Bloser reminded her quietly, "you wanted that, right?"

She nodded again, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You got one good thing, Murph". He said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Focus on that".

Exhaling shakily, Murphy looked up towards the sky. "Right".

Noah was alive.

He just wouldn't be for long.

It was so hard not to fall apart. But if she did, Murphy didn't stand a chance.

She'd never piece herself back together.

The door closed, Winters walked onto the deck.

Clearing his throat, Bloser let go of her shoulders. "I'll see you down there, Murph".

Winters was staring at her, it was obvious something was wrong.

"Sir". Bloser addressed, while moving passed him.

Staying quiet, he made his way over to her.

Murphy rubbed her lips together and her eyes opened, when something was placed on her shoulders. The jacket. Swallowing, she grabbed onto the sides, pulling it closer to her, like an embrace. She closed her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath.

Winters eyes fell into a soft sadness. He stepped, closing the distance between them. And he placed a quiet hand on the side of her face, gently bringing her head to meet his eyes. And when her eyes opened, Winters felt like the breath had been knocked out of him – just like when he first noticed her during that march to Atlanta.

She didn't know why he was here. She was just glad he was.

And like last time, their eyes held a conversation.

Only this time, Winters didn't remove his hand from the side of her face.

Winters didn't like the broken look in her eyes. He wanted to make it vanish.

What he wouldn't give to see her smile again, and he had only just saw it yesterday.

But he missed it already.

And though Murphy felt her chest squeeze, she wouldn't break.

Because he was holding her together. Just with his hand.

What a journey it had been across the Atlantic.

Murphy wondered what England would offer her.


	5. Chapter 5

_It was very cold._

 _Everything was numb, from her toes, to the nip of her ears._

 _And she was lying on the floor, thin blanket out of arms reach._

 _When she was about to reach for the blanket, the wooden door opened._

 _Murphy sat up, scared of who was on the other side._

 _No one was there but she heard a shuffling. Like something was being dragged._

 _Heart in her throat, Murphy looked down at the floor._

 _It was Noah._

 _His fingernails had come off, from scrapping them across the ground to reach her._

 _His face was pale, lips were blue, and he had dark circles around his eyes._

 _Noah was gasping for breath, like something had a hold of his lungs and throat._

 _"Murphy". He croaked, "Murphy!"_

 _She was petrified. Murphy covered her face and let out a scream._

Whoosh!

Murphy sat up in her bed, panting.

It took her a few moments to remember where she was.

Aldbourne.

It's what England should all aspire to be.

With neat cottages, tucked behind well-kept gardens coloured with flowers.

Limited shops, just supplying with what the locals needed.

One grocer, a bakery, a post office and two pubs.

And then, of course, the church. One mile down the road, there were plenty of farms.

It was tiny but it was heaven. Especially after being stuck on a ship for twelve days.

Easy and Able were billeted in the Hightown stables. The stables weren't really that bad, they had beds, it was warm enough and the guys had taken into sticking up pictures of pin-up girls on the doors and above their beds. Murphy wasn't really interested in the girls, but she was happy to see them getting comfortable in their new home, for however long they were stationed here for.

They arrived on the 15th of September, it was raining.

But the next day, the sun was out.

She placed a hand over her chest, feeling her heart start to calm down.

Murphy fell back against her pillow, staring up at the dark ceiling.

That was a mad fucking dream.

She didn't get back to sleep, it was already morning and people were starting to get up.

Murphy left the stables and washed-up in the latrines.

They ate breakfast in the large barn next door. Murphy was pretty quiet, blending in once again because she was tired and couldn't be bothered with talking. She decided to keep to herself that day, most of the guys were heading off to London anyway, wanting to release the tension and have some fun for once. Murphy put her bowl into the basin and left the barn. Slipping past eyes, which might have wondered, if she hadn't been so careful and quiet.

It was all fine and well, being invisible for the day.

Murphy went on a three-mile walk and found where Battalion was stationed.

Col Sink took care of his staff and himself it seemed; they were housed in a castle.

She even found a field with horses.

Murphy sat on the wall and watched them. There were only three, two large shires and a little Shetland pony, who had spiky and an untameable mane. The little Shetland looked funny compared to the two larger horses. And he looked the most pissed-off, especially when one of the shires got into his space of lushes' grass.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Murphy placed her hands onto her knees.

Sort of looked like how she would get mad at Noah, whenever he followed her.

Murphy would do anything to have him follow her around now.

According to the letter, the doctors didn't think he had much longer.

He was admitted with polio five weeks ago.

It explained the lack of letters.

They believed he contracted the disease from the ship, on their way to Limerick. With all the soldiers travelling from one country to the next, it was easy to pick-up a disease. And polio was a highly contagious virus. There were a few cases of the virus back in Limerick because of poor sanitation. Murphy and her family avoided it, they had moved to the States by that point.

There was no cure for polio.

You either fought death off, or you didn't.

But even if you did survive, you'd suffer with the symptoms still.

It was incurable.

And it was spreading to Noah's lungs. Meaning he wouldn't be able to breathe soon.

Murphy ran a hand through her hair and sighed.

Her family was at risk for catching polio now as well.

She could lose them all.

After checking her watch, Murphy jumped down from the wall and walked back onto the road. Stuffing her hands into her jacket pocket, she started the three-mile walk back to the village. Time was coming on, they'd probably realize she wasn't around now. But Murphy needed that time to herself, just to wrap her head around everything. She needed to prepare herself for losing her little brother. And she needed to prepare herself for the risk of more possible bad news.

This was all Michael's fault.

Murphy stopped walking. Good, she needed someone to blame.

If he wasn't such a useless father and husband, there would have been no reason to leave.

And then Noah wouldn't have gotten polio.

"Corporal Flynn".

That stupid, selfish, bastard.

"Murphy?"

Snapping out from angry thoughts, she looked up from the ground.

When did Winters get here?

Murphy looked around her. She had made it back to the village.

The guys were scattered around the village, checking places out. She could hear them laughing and joking around, while others spoke with some of the local young women, who were all very flustered with seeing Yanks in their village.

"Are you alright?" Winters asked, softly.

Murphy looked into his eyes. No, she wasn't really okay, but she nodded anyway.

He bit his bottom lip for a few moments, "I've been looking for you".

"Sir?" Her voice was croaky, from not being used at all that day.

"Yeah – uh – Bloser couldn't find you". Winters told her, but it wasn't the only reason. She just didn't know that yet. He took off his cap, "did you go for a walk?"

Murphy nodded, "I did, sir".

"Restless legs?"

A quick and choked laugh rolled out from her mouth.

Winters face soon turned into a deep frown.

Murphy shook her head, "no, sir". But she kept it under control.

"Alright, Murphy". He told her tenderly, "I'll see you later".

"Sir".

When he walked past her, Murphy rubbed her lips together and closed her eyes.

Opening them again, she took in a deep breath.

He always knew when to find her.

Murphy looked over her shoulder and Winters did the same thing.

When their eyes met, she gave him the smallest of smiles.

And when he smiled back at her, Murphy knew it could be okay. And maybe they shared similar feelings. Still, she couldn't get ahead of herself.

"There you are!"

Murphy looked back in front of her.

Bloser grinned and ran over to her. "Where'd you go?"

"A walk". She told him, "come on, let's head back to the stables".

The day past quickly and it was nearly eleven when Murphy decided to call it a night.

Or so, she thought.

…

Guarnere staggered into the stables and approached her, "need your help".

Nodding, she quickly put on her boots and followed the Sargent outside.

It had already started to rain, Murphy should have put on her jacket.

They rounded the corner and there was Martin, puking his guts up.

She flinched, "what happened?"

"Drank a whole bucket of beer, didn't he?" He grunted, "got dam – the beers hot here!"

Murphy looked up at him, "hot?"

Guarnere nodded eagerly, "yeah, it's all fucking warm".

Sighing quietly, Murphy walked over to Martin and rubbed his back. She rubbed her lips together, thinking of what to do. "Right – get water, right? And black coffee. We'll sober him up before Lip or that finds out".

Happy she had a plan, Guarnere nodded. "Alright, Murph".

Martin spat, "Jesus".

"Yeah". She mumbled softly, "you'll be alright, Johnny".

He sighed, a little shakily. "Sorry…Murph".

Murphy shook her head, "it's alright, Johnny". She then added lightly, "maybe not so much next time, eh?"

Martin breathed out a laugh, "yeah – right".

Guarnere came back with a glass of water and coffee.

Murphy guided Martin away from his vomit and got him into the barn, where she pushed him down onto a chair. He was hiccupping, sipping on his water and apologizing. Guarnere was leaning back on the chair, arms crossed and grinning.

"London got cancelled". He told Murphy, "we start training tomorrow".

Sighing, she looked at her watch. "That's 'gonna be interesting".

"Yeah". He laughed, "you bet".

Martin lifted his head from his arms, "hey – I'll forward you for promotion, Murph".

She shook her head with a smile, "Johnny…I don't think cleaning you up, would be a good case for a promotion, pal".

"Right". He muttered, lowering his head again. "I'll think of something else".

Murphy made sure Martin was sleeping on his side, before she exited the Sargent's part in the stables, making sure to keep it down.

She got to bed at one in the morning.

And got woken up at five.

Four hours, that was fine. She's had worse.

As it turned out, they were heading out for a field exercise.

It was raining, the ground was muddy, and Sobel was leading.

Someone had set-up a makeshift village, where they could practise an offensive attack.

The entire 506 was apart of that.

And it was a twenty-mile march to the village.

They were wet, muddy, tired and some, hungover.

At night, they'd dig in and sit tight, while you or your buddy took first watch. Murphy was hunkered down with Bloser, who was the first to fall asleep. She wanted to sleep, her eyes were extremely heavy from last night's antics. Nothing bothered her besides that. She was used to feeling hungry and cold and like during their march to Atlanta, Murphy felt a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Two hours later, Bloser took watch.

And Murphy had just closed her eyes, when the enemy team launched a counter-attack.

Though it wasn't real, it was as real as it would get before combat.

Everyone started to fire out blanks from their holes.

Winters didn't like that, "mortars! Position yourselves now! 1st and 2nd rifle squads, on me!"

Murphy and Bloser both got up and followed Winters.

So, they leapfrogged. Fire and movement.

The enemy were in the centre of the village, they came around from the right, while covering fire came from the left. A few other rifle squads from 1st and 3rd supported their movement. Sobel was running up the rear, shouting God-knows-what. At least they had made it this far.

The field exercise went on for three days.

Murphy and the rest took a hot shower and had fish and chips for supper when they got back.

Some of them had gotten lost during the exercise.

It was easy to lose your way, especially with a guy like Sobel leading them.

They showed up the next day and missed a whole day of marching.

So, they others took note of that. It was the perfect excuse to miss a day of training.

Murphy didn't want to take part in that. She had done so well at keeping her head down, she wasn't about to break that streak in Aldbourne. And a few of them were already planning to "get lost" during their next exercise. With Guarnere as their Sargent, it would be easy to get away with it because he'd let them go unpunished. If Lipton caught you doing that, he'd make you take apart your weapon repeatedly, until he was satisfied. Murphy didn't envy the rank of Sargent, it must have been tough punishing friends.

And then came the most interesting night in Aldbourne.

Murphy was sound asleep, as she should be. It was three in the morning.

Soundly in dreamland, her shoulder was roughly shaken.

She opened her eyes.

"Murph".

It was Grant.

Murphy sat up, "yeah?" She whispered.

"Need your help".

Oh, Jesus. She thought. Who was puking now?

She put on her jacket this time and followed the Sargent outside. But to add to the mystery, no one was there waiting for her. Murphy looked up at him.

"With what?"

Grant looked a little nervous, "uh – this way".

They walked away from the stables and Murphy was soon faced with a bicycle.

This added more confusion.

Grant got on, "get on behind me".

She huffed out a tiny laugh, "what?"

He sighed, "we don't have much time – come on".

Murphy must have been so used to taking orders now because she was soon sitting on the end of the seat, wrapping her arms around Grant's waist. And when secured, he peddled towards the entrance of the village. Murphy looked behind her, just making sure no one had seen them escape.

Thank God it was Sunday tomorrow.

She cleared her throat, "where we going, pal?" Murphy was surprised by the calmness in her voice.

"Swindon". Grant replied.

"Right". She said evenly, "why?"

He was quiet for a moment, "Bill's been locked up".

"Where?"

He cleared his throat, "jail".

Murphy pursed her lips together, "why?"

"We stole bikes".

She looked down, "this one?"

Grant nodded, "the others back with it's owner".

"Who's the owner?"

He went quiet again, "the police".

Frowning, Murphy looked back up and nodded. "Okay".

And then, she laughed.

Grant laughed a little, "what?"

Murphy sobered up quickly, shaking her head with a large grin. "You're both 'fecking mad, that's what".

He chuckled, "we are, huh?"

It took them almost two hours to reach Swindon.

Grant hid the bike in an alleyway and the pair of them walked near the police station.

Murphy grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"What?" He asked, with a frown.

"Well – we can't just pay bail, Chuck". She told him quietly, "we need to help him escape. If Sobel finds out about this, Bill will get court martialled".

Grant sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "You're right…what'd we do?"

Murphy nodded towards the station and slowly approached it, with Grant behind her. When she got to the window, she stayed low and carefully raised her head, just enough to look inside. Guarnere was behind bars, while one officer on patrol sat by a desk. She needed to think of a plan quickly, before the other officer came back from his rounds in the street.

And then, she spotted a rock.

"Smash it".

Grant pulled a face, "what?"

Murphy picked up the rock, handing it to him. "Smash the window. I'll run in and grab him".

He nodded, gripping the rock in his hands. "Alright – let's do it".

She stood around the corner, near the door.

Grant was a few yards back.

When their eyes caught each other, Murphy gave him the nod.

With one great heave, Grant tossed the rock.

It fell right into the station, creating a large hole in the window.

"Run!" Murphy quickly told him.

Grant turned and sprinted back to the bike, while the officer quickly ran out of the door.

Murphy slid in when the officer was outside.

She began to open all the drawers in his desk.

"On the wall, Murph!" Guarnere told her, "quick – he'll be coming back soon!"

Turning around, Murphy soon spotted the cell key hanging up on a peg. She took the key and ran over to the cell. Guarnere watched her anxiously, while keeping an eye on the officer, who was searching behind fences and walls from gardens opposite the station.

Murphy pulled open the cell door, Guarnere stepped outside.

Grabbing her hand, they both ran out of the door.

"Hey!" The officer yelled, "stop!"

"Go faster!" Guarnere picked up the speed.

Murphy let go of his hand, allowing him to bolt if needed.

She looked over her shoulder.

The officer was running but he wasn't fast enough for the troopers.

This was the thrill they had all been waiting for.

Murphy had never felt more alive in her life.

It was a stupid situation but Guarnere and Grant made it into something amazing.

And Grant soon rounded the corner with the bike.

Murphy sat in the front, on the handlebars. While Guarnere took her old spot behind Grant.

They were on the move once again.

"Ah – stupid mick!" Guarnere laughed, "he'll never get passed old Gonorrhoea!"

Murphy smiled.

"You'd still be in there if it wasn't for us!" Grant reminded him with a boyish grin.

They soon reached a problem upon arrival back in Aldbourne.

It was seven in the morning and Winters was making his way to the stables.

Grant took a sharp turn and they all fell off the bike.

"Jesus Christ, Chuck". Guarnere hissed, rubbing his arm.

"Winters!" He hissed.

Murphy sat up and rubbed her head, "my heads bleeding".

Guarnere looked her over, "no, you're fine. You just landed in a puddle".

Grant looked at her, "Murph, distract him".

She titled her head, "with what?"

Guarnere pulled her onto her feet, "think of something".

With a push, Murphy was soon out in the open.

And Winters was quick to spot her.

Clearing her throat, she walked over to him. "Um – hi, sir".

He smiled, in both amusement and confusion.

Murphy's heart melted.

"What are you doing, Corporal Flynn?" He asked, eyes looking over her head.

"Uh – ". Murphy looked up at him, "walking, sir".

Winters looked at her now, "restless legs again?"

She smiled, "yes, sir".

With his eyes forever holding her heart, she couldn't look away.

He was everything and more to her.

Did he know that?

Murphy wanted to tell him, but something held her back. Perhaps it was fear of rejection? She couldn't have been sure for his feelings towards her. But Murphy had to hope that he felt something because an urge like this, couldn't have been alone. Not when the pull was standing before her.

"Murphy". Winters spoke so softly and beautifully when he said her name.

"Sir?" She whispered.

"What happened? A few days ago?"

Murphy titled her head, with a tiny frown.

Winters stepped forward, "I know you – I know there was something". He said, "what was it?"

"Lieutenant Winters!"

Murphy ducked her head, it was Sobel.

Winters straightened himself out and turned to face the man. "Sir".

She quickly walked away from them.

Murphy didn't want to get seen by Sobel. And she didn't want to explain to Winters of her family. It was still too painful to think about, let alone talk about.

The night was strange.

But it was remarkable.

And when she entered the stables, Guarnere was telling everyone of their adventure.

They all laughed, cheering Grant and Murphy on for saving old Gonorrhoea.

…

One morning, Murphy woke up to a random girl sleeping next to her.

And that's when she realized something; she was the pushover in Easy.

Obviously, this girl belonged to Guarnere.

Slight, dark hair and probably matching eyes.

Murphy sighed and rolled onto her back.

"Morning". The girl said quietly.

She huffed out a laugh, "morning".

What a weird morning it was.

Murphy got up and started to change into her uniform, the others were still asleep. Not for long, it was Tuesday, they had a long march planned for that day. Another fifty-miles to cover. Despite her sleeping partner, Murphy slept considerably well. And the girl, who had brown eyes, discreetly changed under the covers. Murphy's eyebrows pulled together, was she naked under there? What the hell. Shaking her head, she sat down on her bed and put on her boots.

"Is – is Bill around?"

Murphy cleared her throat, "he'll be sleeping".

"Oh". Her face fell, "well…when will he be awake?"

"You should probably go". Murphy told her, as kind as possible. "He'll get into trouble".

Sighing, the girl soon got out of bed.

"I'm sure he'll see you again". Murphy told her lightly, "we have training today, that's all".

She escorted the girl out of the stables and even gave her a penny for the bus home. Murphy couldn't believe she was handling Guarnere's situation. Why did she set herself up for this?

If anyone saw that encounter, they'd think very differently of Murphy.

"Good night?" Bloser teased.

Murphy decided to play along, "the best – what a girl".

He laughed, "man…he's a dead man, huh?"

"What – no". She mumbled, "no…no harm, really".

Bloser shrugged, "they probably had a good time".

Murphy snorted, "I bet". She then gave his blanket a tug, "come on, time to get up".

He sighed dramatically, "I can't stand the thought of another fucking march, Murph".

"I can't stand you whining". Murphy pulled the blanket completely off, "up, let's go".

Bloser groaned and eventually sat up, "fine but if I die, I'm haunting you".

"What the – Rob, it's just a march".

"My feet are fucked".

Murphy looked down towards his feet, "I don't see anything".

Bloser shrugged, "they hurt on the inside – much like my heart, which is breaking at the thought of this fucking march today".

She slowly shook her head, "you're always so 'bleedin dramatic, aren't 'ye?"

"Alright, let's get ready!" Lipton soon charged into the stables, "Private Bloser, get out of bed".

Murphy smirked and grabbed her kit.

Fifty-miles…seemed like a lot.

Bloser was getting up, now that Lipton had told him to. While Murphy drank the last from her canteen. She left the stables and filled up her canteen from the tap in the barn, before attaching it to her belt. Now she was ready.

"Hey, Murph". Guarnere walked over to her, "thanks for that".

Murphy sighed softly, "don't do it again, alright?"

He grinned and clapped her shoulder, "I'll hide the girls someplace else".

"Yeah, good idea". She mumbled, "made me look weird this morning".

Guarnere laughed, "yeah, I bet".

Murphy hated that she wasn't mad at him. Guarnere was good at that. Getting out of someone being pissed-off at him, like he always knew what to say. Expect when it came to Liebgott. But that was in the past. They worked it out and they were back to being friends again. Guarnere didn't mean anything bad by it, it's just what they called Jew's where he was from. And Liebgott was an intense guy, probably wasn't expecting that from Guarnere.

"Where's the girl?" Grant asked, with a broad smile.

Murphy shook her head, "gone. Gave her money for the bus".

They both laughed loudly at that.

She tutted softly, "least I'm fucking nice to your girls".

"Ah, come on". Guarnere wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "you are nice, Murph".

"I know". She mumbled. "I'm too nice".

"Yeah, you are". He said, "but you're still a bad son of a bitch, huh?"

It was almost like Murphy was afraid of being that tiny bit fiercer.

She wasn't walking on eggshells, but she was avoiding something.

For the first twenty-miles, the march was fine.

The weather was clear for now and walking down the fields was a breeze.

And as they stepped onto the road, Bloser's eyes rolled back, his face turned a shade of white and he fell backwards, landing on Murphy. They both fell to the ground, and almost knocked over Popeye, but he managed to avoid the domino effect.

Worried. Murphy got herself out from under her friend. She took off her jacket, placed it under his head and then took off his helmet. Sobel was pissed because the pair of them had stopped the march. He was about to order Murphy to leave Bloser but Winters stepped in.

"I'll deal with them, sir".

Eyeing the man for a few moments, Sobel swiftly turned around. "Move out!"

When he was gone, Murphy gave Bloser's cheek a tiny slapped. "Rob? Open your eyes, pally. You're alright".

Bloser did open his eyes after a few more seconds. He looked confused and maybe a little scared. Murphy pushed back his hair and placed her hand on his forehead. Well, he was sweaty, but he didn't pass-out from being ill.

"Canteen?" She asked him shortly.

Bloser shook his head, "empty". He croaked.

Sighing quietly, Murphy brought hers out. "Sit up, Rob".

He sat up a little, leaning against his elbows.

Murphy placed the entrance into his mouth, he took a few a sip's. "Let's not forget water again, Rob". She told him quietly, "you have to take care of yourself".

Bloser licked the water from his lips, "I forgot".

"Rob…it's too late in the game to forget something so basic". She said to him, "you better bloody hope we're on the same stick for the drop, eh?" Murphy added lightly, with a smile.

"Sobel pissed?"

Murphy shrugged, "I'm sensing a few holes tonight, pally".

Bloser sighed and rubbed his forehead, "sorry, Murph".

She shook her head, "come on, lift your head up". Murphy told him, "don't feel sorry. Let's get up and finish this off, right?"

Getting onto her feet, Murphy reached her hand out for him.

Bloser took it and she pulled him up.

She handed him her canteen again, "drink up".

"What about you?"

"I'm fine". Murphy assured him, "you got rations left?"

Bloser shook his head, while taking another drink.

"Right". Reaching into her pocket, she brought out a chocolate bar and broke off a few squares, handing them to Bloser. "It'll make you feel better".

"Corporal, hang back".

Murphy stopped walking and gave Bloser's shoulder a clap, before turning around and making her way over to Winters. "Sir".

He smiled, "I think you're cover is out".

Murphy smiled back at him, "probably, sir".

Ah, theirs eyes were staring back at one another again.

And Murphy's heart was almost bursting out of her chest.

"Murphy I – well, when you stopped being invisible". Winters said quietly, "I – uh – I never stopped noticing you".

Her whole body suddenly got very warm.

"You're a good Corporal". Winters went on softly.

She pursed her lips, to hide the stupid grin.

And his eyes had more to say.

"Very important". The words fell from his mouth quietly.

Murphy's eyes softened into his eyes. "Well, sir". She said, "if matters any, you were never invisible to me".

He tiny huff escaped his mouth. "I'm glad, Murphy".

She was going to fall in love with him.

And Murphy was fine with that.

There was no use in worrying over something you couldn't control.

She had no chance of controlling these feelings towards him.


	6. Chapter 6

"Alright, let's talk it over. What went good?"

"We cut them off from all sides".

"Uh-huh, using what tactic?"

"Pincer movement, double envelopment".

"Right, what was the delay?"

Murphy rubbed her eye, trying not to laugh.

Some of them did end up laughing.

Even Lipton had to grit his teeth and hide a smile, "come on, what was the delay?"

"1st Platoon lost their way". Guarnere said, with a large grin. "Major Horton showed up".

Sargent Evans, Easy's 1st Company Sargent, wasn't happy with that answer.

"He showed up, told Captain Sobel to cut the fence". Malarkey said, with a cough.

Lipton nodded, "right".

Evans sniffed, "Major Horton wasn't in the village at the time".

"No, Sarge?" Guarnere asked, innocently enough.

"No, he's in London". He said, giving the Platoon a hard look. "And we will find the culprit".

Murphy looked over at Bloser, who had a hand over his mouth, face red from trying to hold back his laughing. Smirking, she nudged his side and a large gasp of air blew from his lips.

"Something you'd like to inform the rest of us, Private?"

Bloser shook his head, "no, Sargent".

Evans looked away from him, "does anyone know?"

They all shook their heads.

"No, Sarge".

"I will find out".

Gaurnere stood up, "I'll find out". He assured him, "who was the Goddam rat, huh?!"

Evans left the barn.

Their shoulders dropped.

George Luz was brilliant for impersonating Horton.

But by God, they were all in the doghouse now.

Sobel woke them up two hours earlier the next day.

They changed into PT gear and ran until Sobel said stop.

Some of them puked, others tripped.

It was exhausting.

When they reached a field, Sobel stopped in the middle and ordered them all to run back and forth, with extra effort. They had to sprint from one end, to the other. And Murphy felt a terrible pain in her knees and feet. On top of that, it was raining pretty heavily. The prank Luz pulled, didn't seem so funny anymore. But it would remain one of the greatest pranks ever pulled in Easy because Sobel fell for it at the time.

The fence he cut had been used to keep the farmers cows secured. And with the barbed wire open, the cows made a break for it and overrun Battalion. Strayer was pissed and Sobel was embarrassed. The only way he knew how to deal with embarrassment, was by punishing his Company. And he did just that.

It was sickening.

After the sprints, Sobel made them do many push-ups and sit-ups.

He didn't stop pushing them and it carried on until supper time.

Murphy collapsed into bed after a small meal of bread and jam.

But the punishment didn't end there.

When everyone was asleep.

Sobel and Evans crept into the stables.

"Gas! Gas!"

They all sharply got up and fumbled around to grab their masks.

Sobel set the gas off.

Everyone was coughing, eyes running with water.

Tear gas was the worst. They used it a lot during basic training.

Bloser crashed into Murphy, her mask fell from her hands.

Coughing harshly, she got onto her knees and blindly tried to locate her mask.

"Get out! Get out!" Lipton was calling for them.

Sobel never touched the Sargent's part of the stable.

Lucky them. He had just wanted to target the rest it seemed.

Murphy, with hands shaking a little, put her mask on and ran outside.

"Let's go!" Sobel screamed, "ten-miles, follow behind!"

Safe to say, they were all a little wrecked and perhaps pissed at Luz.

Murphy's knees had swollen up pretty badly. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at them and willing for them to go down. Lipton brought in Gene, who had wrapped ice into a tea towel and placed the fabric onto her knee.

"Is it bad, doc?" Lipton asked.

"Flynn just needs to take it easy for a day, Sargent".

Murphy shook her head, "I can't, we've got another field exercise".

Gene looked at her, "well, sit it out".

She looked up at Lipton, who was frowning.

"I'll think of something, Murph".

Murphy wasn't the only one left behind. Dukeman was excused from the exercise because of his swollen ankles. The pair of them had the duty of cleaning the stables and latrines. It was a task they were all used to, inspections were taken as seriously as handling a rifle. If you couldn't look after your kit, bed or uniform, then how would you manage to take good care of yourself out there? That was the army way. And it was a good strategy to have. Even taking your rifle apart and putting it back together repeatedly, it made you so familiar with your weapon. And out there, you relied on your weapon the most. So, if something happened to it, you'd know what to do because you had spent so long during training taking it apart and knowing the ins and outs.

Sobel made you carry your weapon at all times, they even slept with it.

Some of them had named their rifles after a girl.

Murphy called her rifle; my rifle – she wasn't very creative.

Her knees got better a couple of days later.

And bad news soon reached their ears.

They had lost Winters to Battalion mess. Apparently, Sobel was annoyed with him because Winters was late to inspect the latrines. That's what they heard at first, which didn't sound like their Platoon leader at all. So, Guarnere managed to find out that Sobel had changed the time, Winters had no way of finding out. He showed up on time, at ten in the morning, inspected the latrines and relieved the Private who had spent hours cleaning them. Apparently, Sobel changed the time fifteen minutes earlier. He had sent a runner, which didn't find Winters and tried to telephone but the house Winters was boarded with, didn't have a telephone.

Winters had two options. A denial for a forty-eight-hour pass for sixty days. Or, a letter of appeal for court martial. Winters chose to trail by court martial. And until his plea was looked over, he was sent to Battalion mess duties. It was a useless distraction, they could be called up to jump in any day now and Sobel had just sent away one of his best officers.

Nobody was happy.

Murphy was livid.

Being sent to Battalion mess must have been a slap in the face for Winters. It's where Lieutenant Colonel Strayer sent officers who weren't up to scratch. And Winters was beyond better than any officer in Easy and probably the whole 506. But then again, Murphy was being biased.

The Sunday after Winters plea for court martial, Murphy took a walk out of the village.

She needed to think of a plan.

The Sargent's had been keeping pretty quiet since the news.

Murphy knew they were up to something. She just hoped it worked.

"Corporal Flynn?"

Her heart got caught in her throat.

Speaking of the man.

Murphy stopped walking and turned to her right. Winters was walking down a path, away from a church and he wasn't alone. He was walking with an elderly couple, and a young girl. Who looked around Noah's age, maybe a year or two younger. But what struck her the most was how utterly stunning he looked in that moment. Winters was wearing his best uniform and the sun hit the side of his face, lighting his eyes and hair.

She smiled, saluting him. "Sir".

Winters saluted her back and opened the small gate for the couple and girl. The three of them walked out and the older man smiled at Murphy.

"And who might you be, miss?"

"Murphy, sir". She replied softly.

"Francis Barnes". He shook her head, "lovely to meet you, Miss Flynn. This is my wife, and our evacuee Elaine".

Murphy smiled at the three of them. "Good to meet you all".

"Oh, you're Irish?" Elaine asked, with a grin. "What are you doing with the Yanks?"

"Elaine!" Mrs Barnes scolded, "please, manors".

Murphy smiled, a little amused. "It's alright, Mrs Barnes. Elaine was curious is all".

"Would you like to come back for breakfast, Corporal?" Mr Barnes asked.

"Um…". She looked over at Winters, who gave her a slight nod. "Yes, Mr Barnes. That would be lovely, thank you".

Mr and Mrs Barnes lived in a small apartment above the post office.

There home was warm, comfortable and pleasant.

They had a fire going, a coal fire and a three-piece sweat facing the flames. Murphy took note of the photos, in them, was a young boy with his parents by the beach. And another, where he was gown-up, in an RAF uniform. He looked very proud in his uniform, with a set smile and eyes shining with pride. Murphy smiled a little, she wondered what Easy looked like in photographs. Maybe they'd look just as proud as this man did.

Elaine decided she'd give Murphy the tour of the apartment. She saw the kitchen, which was a small room at the back of the living room, with an open archway, leading them inside. Elaine wanted to show her where she slept. It was a decent room, with a single bed pushed up by the window. Elaine had a few teddy bears on her bed, sitting up neatly by her pillow. There were three bedrooms, Mr and Mrs Barnes were next door and across from Elaine is where Winters and Welsh slept. They had two army camp beds and just enough space for a desk. But this wasn't there room, it was the RAF man from the pictures room.

Breakfast was set out on a small table.

Murphy sat by Winters. She felt a little weird being in a decent family house for once. It wasn't something she was used to, and Murphy stayed pretty quiet. Mr and Mrs Barnes were good people, the nicest she had met next to her mother and Winters. And Elaine was a good kid, very excitable and had a contagious laugh. She talked a lot about school, what they were learning and her friends in class. Elaine mentioned a boy's name, Liam, maybe more than ten times. Mr Barnes didn't like the sound of Liam.

"You shouldn't be mixing with boys, Elaine".

That didn't sit well with her, "Corporal Murphy does".

"Corporal Flynn is a lot older than you". He pointed out.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "stick with your friends, Elaine. Don't want to be caught up with a boy".

Winters hid a smile under a napkin.

She pursed her lips together, hiding her own smile.

After breakfast, Murphy helped Mrs Barnes with the washing-up.

"You don't have to". She told her kindly, "but I appreciate your help, Murphy".

Murphy picked up a plate and dried it with a tea towel.

"I saw you looking at our Robert".

Her eyebrows twitched together.

"He signed up for the RAF". Mrs Barnes went on with a heavy sigh, "he lost his life during the Battle of Britain".

Murphy's face fell and the plate soon slipped from her hands. It crashed onto the ground. Mrs Barnes jumped at the noise. Murphy sighed softly and got down on her knees, picking the mess up. "Sorry, Mrs Barnes".

She looked down at her, with a forgiving expression.

"I just – the news shocked me, is all". Murphy mumbled, "I can't imagine the – well, it's a mammoth loss". Only, she could understand the pain well. Murphy had seen it across her mother's face too many times. And now with Noah…

"It is". Mrs Barnes agreed quietly.

Clearing her throat, Murphy got back onto her feet with a tiny smile. "I'll dump this mess, Mrs Barnes – sorry about the plate".

Shaking her head, she gave Murphy a soft smile. "Don't be sorry, dear".

Murphy put the broken plate into a small bin, sitting beside the counter.

"Richard speaks so fondly of you all".

She turned to look at her, "Lieutenant Winters?"

Mrs Barnes smiled, while she cleaned the rest of the dishes. "He does go on a lot about his troops in his Platoon".

Murphy rubbed her lips together and took her place back beside the woman. She picked up the tea towel and another plate, being careful this time.

"I always did wonder about you, Corporal Flynn".

She frowned a little.

"He does mention you the most".

Murphy felt the plate slip from his hands, though managed to stop it just in time.

Mrs Barnes chuckled sweetly, "well, if you broke another, I'd have to send you out to buy more".

She huffed out a tiny laugh, "yeah…".

Mr and Mrs Barnes invited Murphy along to their church service next Sunday. And she agreed to go because Murphy liked being around them. So, she left the house with Winters, who offered to walk her back to the stables.

"I like them, sir". She said, once they headed down the road. "They're good people".

"They are". Winters agreed softly.

Murphy stuffed her hands into her pockets, "I broke a plate".

Pulling a face, he looked at her.

"Slipped out my hands, sir".

Winters smiled, a little amused. "I'm sure they'll forgive you".

"I'll buy Mrs Barnes flowers". Murphy promised, more to herself. "I felt horrible, sir".

And his smile softened into words which could only be described as adoring.

She sighed quietly, "Mrs Barnes told me about Robert".

Winters soon frowned, "it's tragic".

Murphy nodded in agreement.

"They raised him well, by the sounds of it". He said, "he knew they loved him a lot".

She bit down on her lip and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Murphy?" Winters asked quietly.

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy opened her eyes again. "It's hard to imagine, sir".

He nodded, "yeah…it is".

"I would hate to put my 'ma through that". She admitted quietly, "it's just hard to visualise death, when you're surrounded by so much life here, sir".

And Winters couldn't imagine it either. He couldn't imagine losing men and he couldn't imagine losing Murphy. It would tear him apart. But he had confidence because Winters knew she would be great out in combat. They had all trained hard. He wouldn't have put her up for promotion if he thought otherwise. But sometimes, he wanted to keep her in Aldbourne. Where it was safe.

"…church, sir?"

Winters gave his head a tiny shake, "what's that, Murphy?"

She looked at him, smiling. "I asked if Mr Barnes was the preacher at church, sir?"

"Yeah, he is". He told her, "Mrs Barnes plays the organ".

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "that's nice, sir".

Winters smiled, "I suppose it is, Corporal".

Biting her lower lip, Murphy took a slight de-tour and walked over to the church. Smiling still, Winters followed after her. She was standing by the gate and eventually opened it up, before stepping onto the path. Murphy wondered up the stones, passing graves. At the top, she spotted a bench, a quiet little corner and far enough away from the church. Murphy ended up walking towards it and she sat down.

"This is where I first met them". Winters told her, while he sat down next to her. "They were paying their respects to Robert".

"It's very peaceful, sir". Murphy commented quietly.

There was an arch made up of roses above them. Murphy looked up and touched one of the flowers, how pretty, she thought. Winters, not knowing what came over him, took one of the roses from the arch. Taking the thorns out first, he then placed it into Murphy's hand.

He definitely wouldn't do that to one of his troopers.

Murphy smiled softly, twisting the rose in her fingers. Then, she tucked it behind her ear.

Winters smiled, "beautiful".

She blushed and ducked her head.

Murphy was going to love him so much.

She sighed softly, "sir?"

"Yeah?"

Murphy looked back up at him, his eyes hadn't left her. "We need you back".

Winters sighed, "it's a terrible distraction".

She nodded, "it is, sir". Murphy agreed softly, "I miss you ordering us around".

That got him to smile again.

"You've been gone for too long, sir".

Winters might have teased that it had only been a few days but even he agreed, it was long enough being away from her and Easy. And he missed her, just as much as she failed to mention.

"What can I do?" She asked, quietly.

His eyes had an edge to them, that same edge on the ship.

"Is there something I can do, sir?"

And then, Winters held her hand.

Murphy was sure the earth stopped moving.

"This will pass, Murphy". He told her softly, "I promise".

She didn't respond because all words were lost and in his eyes. This moment meant a great deal to Murphy. They were sitting on a bench, in their little corner of the universe. And she didn't want to let go of his hand because it fit so well into hers, like a piece from a jigsaw that had been missing all her life, was finally discovered and placed back in to complete the most beautiful picture.

…

Because it was Winters, Murphy was prepared to do anything.

So, standing up to the Sargent's was one thing she had avoided.

Conflict.

Murphy caught Guarnere, Martin and Lipton one morning.

The three of them looked serious and tense.

It was a good thing Murphy was at the rank she was because she would never have dreamed of speaking so freely and abruptly towards the Sargent's of Easy. They were hard guys, though with a great sense of humour and friendships towards those at a lower rank, when it came down to the real stuff, they put their feelings aside and made sure everyone was doing their job. And Murphy needed to catch them when they were most serious.

"We need to talk".

"Is that so?" Lipton asked, raising an eyebrow. "Right now?"

Murphy looked around the barn, it was empty enough. "Yeah, Sarge. Right now".

Because while the Sargent's were busy keeping up the morale, Murphy was hearing much worries over Sobel now that Winters had left them. And she felt a little responsible for them, because they had been honest and open about everything that was going on.

"Go on, Murph". Guarnere said to her, giving her a nod of approval.

Murphy shifted a little, "we're worried, Sarge".

"What about?"

If it was any other day, Murphy would have chosen a different answer. "Captain Sobel and Lieutenant Winters absence from our Platoon, Sarge".

Martin looked over at Lipton, who was staring at her.

Murphy carried on. "We're worried he'll get us all killed, Sarge…we don't have any trust left in us to give him. And we don't respect him as our Company Commander, sir. Granted, he has done well in getting us into the best physical condition but…besides from that, we deserve better".

The Platoon Sargent sighed softly, "okay, Murph. Noted. You're dismissed".

Well, she certainly wasn't invisible that day.

"What did they say?" Bloser asked, when she walked back into the stables.

Murphy rubbed the back of her neck, "I think I touched a nerve, I'm not sure".

"What're they doing in there?" Toye asked her, "all the Sargent's are gone".

She shrugged, "no idea, Joe".

Liebgott had a knowing smile on his face, "hey, Murph?"

"Yup?"

"When's the last time you went invisible, huh?"

Murphy shook her head, "no chance, Lieb. It's different this time".

Liebgott got onto his feet, "ah, come on…you could sneak in and find out what's going on".

"Lay off, Liebgott". Toye told him, "she'd get into shit from them".

"She won't get caught".

"You don't know that".

"Goddammit, it worked last time". Liebgott argued, "it'll work again".

Toye, pulling his face into an angry frown, got up from his bed. "Don't fucking pressure her, Lieb. She's done good at keeping her head down. If those guys caught her eavesdropping, she'll be cleaning rifles all night".

Looking around, Malarkey grinned. "She's vanished".

Murphy was hiding right in the back of the barn, lying on her belly. She had a cart covering her and through the gaps in the wood, she could spot their Sargent's all sitting at the table. It was tense, Murphy could feel the air growing thicker with each passing moment.

"We're going through with this, right?" Grant asked the others.

"We've 'gotta do something". Ranney commented.

They all seemed to agree and Lipton, though looking serious, nodded.

"Good, alright". He told them quietly, "but we'd all better be clear of the consequences".

"I don't care about the consequences". Martin said firmly.

"John, we could be all lined up against the wall and shot". Lipton said, as if reminding him. And he tore his eyes away from him, looking at the rest. "Now, I'm ready to face that. And every one of us had better be too".

Guarnere looked at him, "I will not follow that man into combat". He said in definite.

"Me neither". Bull added.

Murphy frowned. What the hell were they planning?

"Alright. Then let's do it".

From the gaps, she could see them pass out paper and pencils.

"I hereby…no longer…wish to serve…as a non-commissioned officer…in Easy Company". Guarnere said out loud. And it was a good thing he did, because Murphy wouldn't have known.

"Alright, boys". Lipton told them quietly, "good luck".

And they got up and left.

Murphy slowly pulled herself out from the cover and got up.

Jesus Christ.

When she told the rest, everyone was anxious.

"We're fucked if we lose them!" Hoobler exclaimed, "what the hell will we do?"

"We'll do the same".

"Don't be stupid, Cobb". Toye hissed, "they're likely more to shoot us than them".

Murphy was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking up at them. It was good of them to let out their worries. Even if they couldn't do anything, at least they cared enough to worry. And she smiled a little because being in this Company, was the best thing that ever happened to her.

"Alright, let's do something". She said, getting onto her feet. "Let's go over to Sobel and hand in our stripes".

Hoobler nodded, "yeah – I'm in".

"He can't shoot the Corporal's, not all of us". Toye said.

"We'll start a rebellion". Murphy said, "just like the fucking Irish".

"We're in too". Malarkey said, "huh, Skip?"

"Right". He said, with a tiny grin. "We're a bunch of idiots".

Murphy shrugged, "the right kind, pal".

When they got out of the stables, they were all geared up and juiced up. Though rash, they had every confidence that their extra support, would work.

But that all vanished.

When the Sargent's met them half way down the road.

"Where the hell are you going?" Guarnere asked, narrowing eyes stare.

"Where have you been?" Malarkey asked, giving him the same stare back.

It was pretty tense again; the Sargent's weren't in a good mood.

But at least they weren't dead.

Sobel must have given them hell. Maybe the Corporals wouldn't get let off as lightly.

"Malark". Guarnere sighed, "how much do you know, huh?"

He shook his head, "what are you talking about?"

Lipton was staring at Murphy. Who was failing to blend in.

"Alright, get back to the stables". He told them, "expect you, Corporal Flynn".

Murphy bit the inside of her cheek, shit.

When they left, Lipton dropped his crossed arms.

"I liked it better when you blended it and kept your head down".

"Right, Sarge". Murphy muttered, "but you's were about to lay your life on the line". She said, shaking her head. "We figured the extra threats would help".

Lipton's face wasn't as stern now, "right…well, then you'd be doing the same. And then what would happen to our Company, Murph?"

"We'd be dead anyway". She said, "without you lot and Lieutenant Winters".

"How the – where were you hiding?" Lipton asked.

Murphy rubbed the back of her neck, "barn, Sarge".

He sighed, "Jesus Christ – right, you're on latrine duties".

She gave him a nod, "right, Sarge".

Lipton shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh.

"Sarge?"

He sighed again, "what?"

"I'm glad you's didn't get shot". Murphy smiled a little.

"We're not out of the woods yet". He mumbled, "Col Sink will 'wanna see us".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy nodded. "Right, Sarge – I'll get to cleaning now".

He smiled small, "right…off you go, Murph".

She finished cleaning the latrines later on that day and waited for inspection.

Murphy waited for over two hours.

What the hell was going on?

The door opened and Welsh walked in, with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, Flynn. Sargent Lipton suddenly remembered. Guess he ain't used to punishing you".

Murphy gave her head a shake, "it's alright, sir".

She passed the inspection and Welsh let her out.

The next day, all the Sargent's were to report to Battalion.

That's when the nerves kicked in because Sink might just kick them out.

Murphy hardly slept that night, as if she knew this was going to happen. Her legs played havoc and she ended up staring at the ceiling for the better part of the night. And now, they had more waiting to do. No one wanted to lose a Sargent from their Company. And they needed Winters back, Murphy needed him back. It was hard missing him.

She didn't eat much breakfast and training was called to a halt because their NCO's were out.

So, they didn't have much to distract them.

Murphy was sitting in the barn again, Malarkey had turned on the radio. Glenn Miller was on and the mood was lifted slightly, everyone loved Glenn Miller. Especially Malarkey, if someone talked while Glenn was playing, he'd sooner tell you to shut up.

It was Blueberry Hill, with Ray Eberle on vocals. Murphy only started to take up an interest in music when she arrived in Toccoa, and it was all Malarkey's doing. Not only did he love his music, but he had a good singing voice too. Much better than Toye's, who took it upon himself to be Easy's front man.

Murphy leaned back against the chair, enjoying the smooth vocals. Her favourite parts of the songs came from the bass and drums. She loved the drums.

Sing, sing, sing came on next. And did she not just love that drum intro. Malarkey was busy telling her of when he first heard this song.

"I wanted to swing that girl to the high heavens, Murph".

She looked up, "didn't know you danced, Malark".

He snorted, "well…I ain't that good".

Muck gave her shoulder a nudge, "you dance, Murph?"

Murphy shrugged, "no idea".

"Never danced, huh?"

She shook her head, "not really something I've been interested in. 'Ma dances. She did ballet before I came along and ruined her figure".

They both chuckled at that, Murphy snorted.

"She did try". She added quietly, "but – eh – I always found something better".

"What was better?" Malarkey asked.

Shaking her head, Murphy looked back down at her rifle, which she was cleaning. She shouldn't have mentioned her mother, it made her think about them. Murphy hadn't heard anything to do with Noah yet and she figured he was still hanging in there.

"They're coming back!" Bloser said, who had been keeping watch at the door.

Malarkey turned the radio down and they all got up.

The Sargent's walked into the barn. Slightly touched by the welcome.

Everyone was alive.

"What happened?" Luz asked, the first to break the silence.

Sighing, Lipton looked over at Harris. "He's out, Ranney got demoted to private".

They all felt terrible for Harris, that was one lost from 3rd Platoon. Ranney would remain with 1st Platoon, at least Sink didn't get rid of them all, but he had to pick a couple, just to prove how serious this situation was. The outcome could have been worse. Harris was gutted at being transferred. And they all wished him well.

Hopefully, there act of mutiny paid off.

And it did.

Three days later, Sobel was transferred to Chilton Foliat, to train the troops. And Lieutenant Meehan from Baker Company took over as Company Commander. And better yet, they had Winters back.

Murphy had a stupid smile on her face when he met his Platoon outside.

God, she had missed him so much.

…

Just as promised, Murphy showed up for church.

She met Winters outside the gate, wearing his best uniform and looking handsome like always.

His hand naturally slipped into hers and the pair walked up the path and into the old building. The funny thing was, they were walking down the aisle and so many thoughts hit Murphy during those short few seconds to the front row.

Winters continued to hold her hand.

In fact, they held hands throughout the entire service.

It was magical.

When the service ended, they went back to Mr and Mrs Barnes for breakfast. And like last time, Murphy sat down next to Winters and enjoyed a hot meal of bacon, sausage, black pudding, toast and eggs. Mrs Barnes like to serve up a good Sunday breakfast, she saved up her ration stamps for this special day.

The conversation was just as pleasant as last week.

"Corporal Murphy?" Elaine said to her, "you were right about Liam".

"I was?" She asked curiously.

The girl nodded, "instead, I decided to speak with Conor".

Mr Barnes almost choked on his tea, "Elaine!"

Murphy smiled and looked away from the girl, Winters chuckled very quietly.

Shaking her head, Murphy looked back down at her food.

"Well, Elaine". Winters said, "if he does turn out to be a bad seed, I'm sure Corporal Flynn will see to it".

Her eyebrows twitch. What?

Elaine seemed happy with that answer, "thank you, Corporal Murphy".

Murphy looked up at Winters, "yes, thank you, sir".

And the smile she received was nothing but teasing.

But it still melted her heart.

Goddammit, Winters.

Like last week, the pair ended up under the rose arch once more.

Hand in hand, until Murphy let go of his hand and reached into her pocket.

Winters watched curiously. She pulled out a latter.

"From 'mam". She said, with a tiny sigh. "It's not 'gonna be good".

Nodding slowly, Winters watched, while she opened the letter.

Clearing her throat, Murphy read through the letter in her head.

Noah was still alive. But they didn't know for how long.

And she could see him.

So many emotions rushed around in her head, though never projected outside.

Winters didn't have a clue what she was feeling at that moment.

And after a few moments, she nodded. "It's fine".

"It is?" He asked softly.

Murphy folded up the letter and placed it back into her pocket. "Noah is alive".

Winters face fell, "I didn't know he – what's wrong with him?"

"Polio, sir". She whispered, looking back at him. "He's dying".

"Murphy, I'm –"

"it's fine". Murphy rubbed her lips together, looking away from him.

Swallowing, Winters took her hand. "He'll always know love and some people don't know what it was like to be loved, as much as you loved Noah".

Blinking, her eyes suddenly mister over. She swallowed down a hard lump and clenched her teeth together.

Winters watched her, his heart soon tearing into pieces.

Murphy took in a few deep breaths.

"Murphy".

She turned and looked at him.

Their eyes locked together. Murphy let go of his hand and placed it onto the side of his face. Winters, though a little perplexed, leaned into the touch and felt warmth spread over him.

"That was the nicest thing, anyone has ever said to me".

His eyes softened into hers.

She wanted to, but God, she could have kissed him.

But instead, Murphy placed her head onto his chest.

Winters wrapped his arms around her, feeling complete. He had wanted to do that for a while. Murphy gripped onto his jacket, and a ghost of a kiss was pressed onto the top of her head. Her lips twitched, she snaked her arms around his waist.

She was right where she belonged.


	7. Chapter 7

January was a stressful month.

Churchill and Eisenhower were doing their next inspection.

And they should feel honoured, Easy were a great Company.

But it was also Winters birthday month and Murphy wanted to get him a gift.

It sounded pathetic, really. They weren't a couple, an item – or whatever the kids called it these days. But Murphy was falling in love and she wanted to get him a special gift. And she could have gone into London with her friends, but they'd only question her sudden interest in going there in the first place and finding a gift. So, she had to keep her shopping local. Preferably in the small village.

And just when she thought luck couldn't have hated her more, Murphy ran into an old man who was a merchant and an artist. She was invited along to his small cottage, where many trinkets were on display. Her eyes went straight to a compass. It was brass and small enough to fit in your pocket. Murphy picked it up and opened the case. Well, it didn't work but Winters wouldn't need to use this one, it was far too old anyway.

"How much?"

"Ten shillings".

Sighing, Murphy nodded and pulled out the ten note.

The old man smiled, "I'll engrave the case for three pence?"

Sighing again, Murphy handed him three pence.

"You've made my day a lot brighter, Corporal".

Murphy wrote down what she wanted engraved and left the cottage, penniless.

That better turn out perfect.

When she got back, everyone was getting ready for inspection.

Murphy immediately got to work on cleaning her weapons.

Cause God forbid if there was rust. Lipton would kill her.

The inspection went really well, and everyone passed. Churchill even spoke with Malarkey briefly and he did feel a little proud but never really mentioned it because the others would tease him for being, "Churchill's golden boy", which a few called him.

Poor Malarkey.

And training resumed, in harsher weather conditions than they were used to.

They ran over many problems, field exercises and night patrols.

And they had to be prepared to take charge in combat if need be, so, sometimes they'd rank you for the day. Sargent's became Platoon leaders, officers led the Company and Corporals and Privates turned into NCO's, it was like living in a backword's world.

To be fair on Guarnere, he would have made an excellent Platoon leader, Lipton as well.

They knew when to raise their voice and when to stay quiet. And they knew where to position everyone, to reduce the wounded. You always felt safest with a leader who was confident in his decisions. Confidence played the most vital role as a leader. If you didn't sound confident, you'd risk losing respect. Unfortunately, some of the guys didn't do so well during these exercises. And Murphy didn't like it much either.

As a squad leader for one exercise, she was sent out to lead a patrol.

Popeye, Toye and Bloser were the victims of this mess.

The "enemy team", was Luz, Perconte, Cobb and Bull, who were waiting for them at the end of the tree line.

Murphy rubbed her hands together, facing the three of them.

"Right – let's have Toye to the right, Pop at the left and Bloser at the rear".

Overseeing this exercise was Winters and Lipton.

Murphy suppressed all feelings towards the Lieutenant and remained focused.

The squad moved into the forest. Murphy made sure to keep them quiet.

She thought Bull's patrol was to attack from the end of the woods but as it turned out, it was a trick. Murphy spotted him first and signalled for them to get down and take cover. The four of them got behind a bush.

"On my command". She whispered.

They nodded and got ready to fire.

When Perconte was the last to pass them, Murphy fire out her first blank.

The rest followed shortly after.

They were surprised by the ambush, though Bull tried to get his squad together.

For ten minutes, it was intense fire, with Perconte lying on the ground, playing dead.

Winters eventually called it a day.

It was pretty funny, both squads were too stubborn to die.

"You got me, you ass".

Murphy chuckled and helped him up. "My deepest sympathies, Perc".

So, the majority of Easy were educated to take over another rank if need be.

Murphy felt like she'd never be ready for that day, it was all well and fine during fake patrols but when it came to the real thing, she didn't know how she'd react. Being a Corporal was a good and stable rank to hold. She wouldn't lead a squad, that's what the Sargent's were for, but she was responsible still for the well-being of other soldiers. And if need be, she'd need to lead a smaller squad. But not on large objectives or patrols like the Sargent's were made for.

And she did feel a little defeated because her mock patrol didn't turn out so well.

"Murph…you're breaking my fucking heart". Bloser said, "would you just cheer-up already?"

Frowning a little, she sat up from her bed. "I am cheered-up, pal".

"Great. Warm beer?"

Murphy shook her head, "I don't drink".

Bloser sighed, "man…you'd be terrible at a party".

"Thank God this isn't a party then".

He grinned, "right…sure you're okay, Murph?"

She gave him a tiny nod, "yeah…just – I 'dunno, patrol went kind of bad".

Bloser shook his head, "hell no, Murph". He told her, "no one died from our team, right?"

"I suppose". Murphy mumbled, "Bull was just too 'fecking good".

He laughed lightly, "yeah, but – he's been a Sargent for a while, Murph".

"Yeah, true".

Murphy didn't dwell for long. Training picked up that night with another problem exercise.

Meehan was a better leader, by far greater than Sobel.

During one problem, they came under heavy fire.

They had set off grenades and mortars, which deafened them.

Easy stayed hunkered down in their foxholes, while wind and rain nipped their cheeks.

God, it was a horrible night. But they needed to prepare them for the worst days and nights during combat. At the time, they didn't know how bad things were going to get. No one knew what was to come when it came to the real thing, not really. Which is why they did so much harsh training. They wanted their guys to be strong both physically and mentally. Breaking in combat wasn't an option. Their emotions had to turn off and on like a light switch. They had to learn to go from aggression, to nothing in seconds.

That was the hardest part.

Murphy was lucky in the sense that she had sparring.

But getting so angry to the point of screaming, was difficult.

So, her weakest point was bayonet training. Even back in basic, she struggled to get to grips with an angry side she wasn't familiar with. And Meehan took notice of her during one bayonet exercise. They were all lined up, one guy from each Platoon would run across the field and stab a sandbag, much like the ones in Toccoa. They had to charge with fierce rage and switch that anger off immediately after.

And sure enough, Murphy ran across the field and stabbed the bag.

But it wasn't enough.

"Corporal. Get to the back of the line, do it again".

She nodded, "sir".

At the back of the line, she could have kicked herself.

"What's going on, Murph?" Lipton asked.

Murphy shook her head, "I'm not angry enough, Sarge".

"Well, you better get mad". He told her, "we'll be here until you do".

When Lipton moved away to watch the rest from 2nd, Liebgott approached her.

"Come on, just think of something that makes you mad".

Murphy bit the inside of her cheek, "I can't think of anything".

He sighed, "if you don't think of something, you'll be letting us down".

Liebgott had a point. They'd be stuck here until she did this right.

Sighing quietly, Murphy closed her eyes and thought of things that made her angry.

Oh, it didn't take too long.

Michael, her father.

She gave a tiny nod.

But what about him, made her angry?

 _"Leave her alone!" He yelled, "leave her alone, 'da!"_

 _"Aw fuck off!" Michael raged._

 _"No!" Noah yelled back, "why are 'ye such an arse to us!"_

 _"Because no one gives a flying shite about you!"_

And then, he punched him.

He punched her little brother.

Noah, who was always so childlike, kind and loving.

Murphy clenched her jaw, taking in a deep breath. She was trying to calm herself down.

No, she had to remain angry.

It was like a burning hot pit of fire in her belly. Murphy eyes didn't see a sandbag, nor a Kraut, they saw Michael. She turned her gun around, bayonet now pointing forwards.

"High position!" Meehan called out.

"High position!"

Murphy had her rifle by her left shoulder.

"On guard!"

"On guard!" They shouted back, while stepping forward.

"Advance!"

As soon as her foot stepped forward, Murphy charged down that grass like a race horse. Her boots pounded on the grass like a beating drum and she sprinted passed the others. She didn't scream or yell, it was written all over her face. Murphy stabbed that sandbag so hard, that it fell onto the ground. She tore into the bag and ripped it open, sand fell out from the sack.

And she might have taken another hit.

But reminded herself that this was an exercise.

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy was shocked that she had managed to do that.

From one hundred to zero. They really trained her well.

"Better, Corporal". Meehan gave her a nod.

"Sir".

And though she didn't like to get angry, Murphy was satisfied that she hadn't let anyone down.

Training went on constantly until it was nearing the end of January.

On the twenty-first, it was Winters birthday.

But the man wasn't home.

Murphy ended up handing the gift to Mrs Barnes.

"He'll be back next week". She told him, "he's in Scotland".

"Thank you, Mrs Barnes".

The older woman smiled, "I'll make sure he gets his gift, dear".

So, they were given a furlough. Murphy had to ask permission to leave England.

Meehan agreed because Welsh was heading over to Ireland to visit his family and allowed Murphy to go, so long as she left with the Lieutenant and got back with him. It was a fair deal and Murphy was quick to agree on those terms. She just wanted to see Noah.

That's all she cared about.

…

It was a long journey to Dublin.

First, they had to get the bus into London, then a train to Liverpool.

From there, it was an eight-hour ferry crossing.

Lieutenant Welsh kept the journey entertaining enough. He banged on about Kitty, his girl from back home. He was going to marry her once the war ended. That was so far into the future but at least he had a reason and a positive attitude about things. For now, anyway.

Crossing the Irish sea was always going to be rough.

And the ferry was crowded with Irish who were leaving London after failing to get employed.

They were all mainly drunk, angry and depressed.

God, it was a rough journey.

"Can you believe this, Flynn?" Welsh told her, "these guys think they've got it bad, huh?"

"They do, sir". Murphy mumbled softly, "but it could be worse".

"Cheers to that".

When they arrived in Dublin, they got the bus to Limerick.

Murphy didn't know how to feel about going back, so she decided not to feel anything.

Limerick had nice parts but the poor parts, were devastating.

With houses riddled with mould and damp. Death and disease were scattered across like rain. And it rained a lot in Limerick. The streets were of cobbled ground, cars and other vehicles didn't venture down those parts. Not a lot owned a car, it was rare to see someone have one. But Murphy wasn't heading down memory lane, she went straight to the hospital. Her plan was simple, see Noah, visit her mother and twin brothers and then join Welsh and his family, who were two hours away. It was a plan destined not to fail.

Once she stepped off that bus, the familiar smell hit her at full force.

It smelt like feet.

Murphy remembered attending school with no shoes. She had the belt that day for showing up to class with no shoes. And her mother had to make shoes by using the fabric from the couch. It was a memory she hated the most, Murphy felt humiliated that day. And standing in the centre of town, wearing boots and a clean uniform, Murphy felt like that little six-year-old once more, craving a home she longed for.

The town was the better part of Limerick. And the hospital was it's five-star hotel.

Murphy headed up to the reception and took off her cap.

"I'm here to see Noah Flynn".

The nurse looked up, "oh? He's on ward six. Are you a relative?"

Murphy nodded, "I'm his sister".

She smiled small, "Murphy?"

"That's right".

"He's spoken about you a few times". The nurse told her, "he'll be glad to see you".

Her body felt heavy while she walked up six flights of stairs.

Murphy had never experienced a feeling like it before.

And when she made it to the top, there were many occupied beds. Most of the children were alone, looking sad and very sick. Murphy clutched her cap tightly and wondered down the strip quietly, some of the children were sleeping. And soon, she spotted Noah. Maggie was there with Conor and Robbie, both of the twins were sitting on the ground, playing with a soft ball. Oh God, they had grown so much since she last saw them.

It took her by surprise.

Maggie was lightly dozing, while Noah lay still and fast asleep.

Murphy gently sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand into hers.

Slowly, one eye opened.

"Murphy". He croaked, through chapped and pale lips.

Swallowing down the lump, she squeezed his hand.

"You came and – and saw me".

"I did". She whispered, while pushing his hair back from his forehead. "I hear you're sick, pally".

Noah tried to give her a nod, "I am".

The doctors couldn't save him, so they tried to make Noah as comfortable as possible.

He had extra blankets, a few books by his bed and another pillow.

It was all Limerick could offer the dying boy.

"Are you hurting, pally?"

"I'm alright". Noah whispered, "I'll be fine".

Maggie took in a sharp breath and opened her eyes, "oh, Murphy". She gushed, "you came back to us".

Murphy almost broke then, "I did, yeah".

She got up and wrapped her daughter into a hug. "We've missed you, pet".

Maggie pulled back from the hug and kissed her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

Murphy shook her head, "me? I'm fine".

She smiled, though her eyes shone with tears. "The Priest is coming down shortly".

Her eyebrows twitched, "why?"

Maggie sniffed and wiped her eyes, "for Noah, pet".

Closing her eyes for a moment, Murphy took in a deep breath.

"Murphy". Noah whispered, "I'll be okay".

She rubbed her lips together, shaking her head.

"It'll be fine, I promise".

Murphy sighed, with a low grunt. "Stop it, pally. You don't have to be strong".

Maggie kissed Noah's forehead, "he's been strong for so long. You'd be proud".

"I'm always proud of him". Murphy whispered firmly, "okay, Noah? I'm always proud of you".

"I know, Murphy". Noah's eyes slipped shut. Too weak to keep them open.

How was she going to say goodbye to Noah?

He was only fourteen. He should have had more life ahead of him.

Noah didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to live with no money and a father who didn't love him. And Murphy felt like she could have tried harder. Maybe she should have stopped Michael from hitting him so much, but while that was happening, she had already taken a beaten and was either too weak or knocked out to stop him.

They had some shit moments in life.

But the good moments, were always magical.

Because during those times, they went into a world that they both made-up. Where no one cried, no one was hungry, and they were warm and wrapped up in a blanket of escape and fulfilment. They shared good moments in the real world too. The birth of the twins, those two Christmas's where Michael was nice to them. When Murphy would stay up late and read to him if he was scared to sleep. Those were the moments which mattered to her the most.

But the ones she'd forget for a while.

Because this was devastating. This magnitude of losing her little brother, it stretched to the moon and back, and perhaps beyond. And all she wanted, was a steady hand to hold her up.

Winters hand.

Murphy had to say goodbye to her brother at eight that night.

She kissed his forehead, which already felt cold.

"I'll see you there, pally".

Maggie was sobbing, uncontrollably.

Murphy hugged her tightly, allowing her mother to cry into her chest, while they sat on the edge of the bed, with Noah lying beside them, looking peaceful enough to be asleep. Murphy remained strong throughout, her mother needed her right now. The twins were both asleep on the bed next to Noah, not knowing that they had just lost their big brother.

It was a horrible feeling.

And it ate away at Murphy. Picking every last piece of happiness, she might have had.

She was so numb.

Murphy got her mother and the twins back to her Granny's house.

Michael was still in Brooklyn, apparently.

She wasn't going to stay. Maggie knew that and accepted it.

It was always a short visit but this one was different.

She couldn't stay because Murphy needed time to be alone.

"Come home to me". Maggie hugged her fiercely, "you understand?"

Murphy nodded, "I do, 'mammy".

And she turned her back on Limerick. Never wanting to return again.

Murphy reached a nicer side to Ireland two hours later.

Finding the street was easy enough, the place was well lit by street lamps and signs.

She was in no mood for talking and it just so happened, Murphy had walked into a party. Welsh had a jolly little family out here in Ireland. They were laughing, joking, smoking and drinking. She just wanted to go to bed. But his Uncles, Aunts and cousins wouldn't allow it.

"Ah, a fellow true Irish!"

Welsh was beaming, "she's in my Company!"

Music was playing, people were singing and dancing.

Murphy pushed passed them and made her way towards the merry Lieutenant.

"I just 'wanna go to bed, sir".

"What's wrong?"

Murphy shook her head, setting her jaw.

He seemed to break out of this party mood pretty quickly, just like a switch.

Welsh guided her outside and into a small back garden.

Murphy sat down on the bottom step, wrapping her arms around her knees.

And Welsh soon took the spot next to her. "Drink?"

She shook her head.

"Looks like you need one, Flynn".

Sighing, Murphy took the bottle of whiskey and took her first sip.

It was disgusting and it burned her throat and stomach.

She passed it back to him quickly.

Welsh nodded and set it next to his leg. "Cigarette?"

"No, sir". Murphy croaked, throat still sore from the whiskey.

He lit one for himself, "how about we head back tomorrow?"

"We don't have to, sir".

Welsh shrugged, "long journey ahead, Flynn".

"Right".

It was quiet in Ireland. This side of it anyway. Murphy rested her chin onto her arms. It felt empty and she missed Aldbourne. She missed her friends and she missed Winters. Today marked the worst day of her life, and behind her, people were having a party. It felt like a punch in the gut.

Welsh clapped her shoulder, "I don't what's going on, Flynn but. You'll get through it".

"Yes, sir".

Murphy doubted it. There wasn't hope. Not right now, anyway.

They arrived in Aldbourne at night.

The journey was fine, the ferry wasn't as crowded, and Welsh was asleep for the most part.

Which was fine, Murphy didn't feel like talking still.

The guys who had stayed behind, were asleep. And she crept into bed. Though never slept. She was scared to sleep and avoided it like the plague. If she slept, it risked bad dreams. Seeing Noah like that, scarred her. And watching the light fade from him, would be forever printed into her head.

No, Murphy wouldn't sleep.

Not right now.

She'd hope there would be a distraction, to keep her focused but Meehan was out of the village. There were no orders to follow because it hadn't reached the end of furlough. Murphy was screwed, she only had her head to occupy her time and it wasn't a place she wanted to visit right now.

But she was relieved to be back with Easy, despite the ache.

Bloser was in London with most of the guys.

Guarnere and Martin decided to head over to Edinburgh.

But Winters was back early.

Welsh had told him that something was up with Murphy. And when he woke up, the first thing he did was head over to the stables. Murphy was sitting on the edge of her bed, cleaning her rifle with an old rag. Winters had missed her, more than he could have imagined. And seeing her handle her weapon so quietly, carefully and softly, softened every bone in his body.

She never did need to tell him, he already had an idea of what happened in Ireland.

He sat down next to her.

Murphy looked up at him.

"I'm sorry, Murphy". He whispered, meaning every word.

Blinking, she carefully put her rifle to the side.

Winters took her hand, "you're truly remarkable". He said, "and when you realize that, I think you might smile again".

Murphy leaned into his side and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"I love my gift". He told her softly, "it's the best thing I've ever received". Winters kissed the top of her head, "follow me".

That's what she had engraved on the cover. He said it a lot during training. It made sense. But it meant something else too. A lot more to Murphy because she would follow him, to hell, back to heaven and then to the deepest parts of hell again. She would go anywhere with this man.

…

By the end of February 2nd Platoon had a new assistant Platoon leader.

Lieutenant Compton, or Buck, as he liked to be called.

He was six foot and built like an athlete.

Buck was a good guy. Energetic, funny and kind. He spent mostly all his time with his men, getting to know them or playing craps with them. During meal times, he would sit with his guys and bunk off the officers. Buck was truly a soldier's soldier. Him joining Easy was something they didn't know they needed but he really did take the edge off. Because they were all feeling nervous now, knowing the drop would be coming soon. And Buck, along with Guarnere and Lipton, managed to sooth their ruffled feathers. And it was in ways, Murphy couldn't have guessed.

Basketball. That was one of them.

Winters and Buck were now the coaches of the 506-basketball team.

They didn't have a court to practise on and they didn't have the uniform for the game. But a lot of guys from Easy joined the team because their two officers were the coaches. Murphy didn't join the team, but she was happy enough to cheer her friends on. And better yet, Lipton had re-opened the sparring team, she was the first to sign-up.

Guarnere, Liebgott, Toye, Bull and Hoobler made the team as well.

Bloser was there, like always, to cheer her on.

During her first practise match, Murphy picked out Mark from the crowd he agreed and got into the centre of the room. Like always, sparring was about controlled aggression but after everything Murphy had gone through, she didn't have much of an off and on switch.

"Go!"

After touching gloves, they got into position.

For the first few moments, Murphy avoided his swings.

Mark was smart, quick on his feet and had a tough right hook.

He was five eleven in height and a bigger build.

"Alright, little Irish!" Bloser cheered, clapping his hands.

It was like being back in Mackall again.

Only this time, Murphy had gotten better – she hoped, anyway.

She took a few punches to the face and her nose started to bleed. That was nothing new. But unlike Bloser and Lipton, the others weren't used to seeing her getting punched in the face.

"Jesus Christ!" Guarnere yelled, "you better start fighting back!"

Murphy actually felt a lot better after being punched around a few times.

It was weird but it was satisfying to her.

She couldn't let it continue, however. So, Murphy kicked him behind the knee. Mark hunched over, just enough for her to reach his face. She got him on the right, then punched from the left. They were quick, hard and effective. She got him on the nose and then, Murphy slammed him in the temple. Mark hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. She had knocked him out.

"Jesus – stop!" Lipton called, while checking on Mark.

Murphy stepped away, suddenly feeling bad for knocking him out.

"Hey, Mark? You alright?"

He came to a few seconds later, "what the fuck…".

Guarnere clapped her shoulder, "what a knockout".

Liebgott handed her a towel for her nose, "good fighting, Murph".

She pressed the towel up to her nose.

Bloser shook his head, "Murph…I'm not sure that was controlled".

She shrugged, "Sarge didn't say stop, pal".

It was interesting watching her friends fight. They were all very good.

Liebgott was quick, Toye and Bull were scary, Guarnere was fierce and Hoobler tired out his competitor. They made quite the team. Lipton was impressed. And he added more practise days to the diary.

Murphy didn't feel bad for knocking Mark out because she did it again, with three other guys from Able. Her friends knocked some guys out too, Lipton soon shifted the rules around and allowed this. They were nearing the drop, everyone was tense and fighting a guy until you knocked them out, relieved that stress.

Or another way to relieve stress was to fall in love.

Which was what Leo Boyle did. Boyle was originally the gas noncom during training. He was given the nickname Fearless Phosgene. He rose to the rank of Sargent in Mackall, another squad leader for 2nd Platoon. While in Aldbourne, Boyle had met a girl called Winn – Winifred Hawkins. She was a nice English girl and very pretty. Marriage was a taboo, lots of roadblocks prevented you from getting married out in England. However, Boyle avoided these by asking Winters permission to marry her and his permission was granted.

Most of 2nd and a few from 1st and 3rd were invited along for the ceremony. They were getting married in the church Mr Barnes worked at. Murphy had gotten into her uniform, the best one, of course, while Guarnere was combing back his hair. She was waiting for him, and he was taking his time. And he wasn't allowed to be late, Guarnere was Boyle's best man.

"Don't you worry, Murph". He told her, a twinkle in his eye. "Do me a favour?"

"What?" She asked evenly.

"Grab the smoke grenades".

She tilted her head to the side.

Guarnere turned to face her, "don't ask, just do it".

"Jesus – fine".

He grinned, "just you wait, Murph…just you wait".

Murphy picked up yellow, purple, green and red smoke grenades.

Once they were collected, Guarnere changed the route and they headed towards a jeep.

"Put 'em in".

Murphy sat in the back with the grenades on her lap. She had no idea what he had planned but never asked. If it was going to be something, it would end up being funny and Murphy could have used a good laugh.

They pulled up outside of the church, Boyle would be waiting inside for Winn.

Murphy cleared her throat, "so – eh – what's the plan?"

He had a broad grin, "just wait, Murph".

When another car pulled up, they both put on their masks, as Guarnere instructed.

Murphy looked behind her and saw Winn getting out of the car, wearing a beautiful white dress, with her hair half-up and down. She looked stunning. However, Guarnere started to set off the smoke grenades in her direction. Murphy's eyes widened. The whole street was coated in colourful smoke, no one could see. He then got out of the jeep, grabbed Winn and put her inside the vehicle, and he drove off!

Winn was having a fit in the front, "what's going on?!"

Guarnere drove for ten-miles and dropped her off, leaving the pretty bride on the side of the road. Murphy climbed into the front seat and took off her mask.

"What the fuck, Bill?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

Guarnere had his mask off now and was laughing.

They headed back to the church, Boyle was beside himself.

"What the fuck happened?!" He yelled, "where's Winn?! Who set off the grenades?!"

And Guarnere, like always, acted innocent. "That dirty rat. Who done that?!"

To make the situation funny, for Murphy anyway, he blamed Smitty, Guarnere always blamed that poor guy. The only reason Guarnere blamed him, was because you'd never believe it. Smitty had garrison training before joining Toccoa. He was great with a rifle, had a well upbringing in Hollywood with his starlet girlfriend and his parents who owned stock at Kodak film. It was easy to put the blame on Smitty. Boyle was fuming. He almost knocked Smitty out.

However, the issue was resolved when they eventually found Winn and they got married that same day.

Murphy ran after Guarnere during the reception and punched his arm.

"Thanks, pal". She told him, with a nod.

He grinned and draped an arm over her shoulders, "you're welcome, Murph".

It was another moment with Guarnere she'd never forget.


	8. Chapter 8

In May, they had to leave Aldbourne.

They were headed to the marshalling area in Upottery Field, where they'd be taking off.

It was time to go.

On the 29th of May, most of Aldbourne waved them off.

And for some, it was a tearful goodbye.

Especially for Boyle, who had to leave his wife, far too soon.

Guarnere was good to the man and offered a solid hand on the shoulder.

Murphy said goodbye to the Barnes's and Elaine. She even saw Winters eyes glistened.

Mrs Barnes was sniffing into a tissue and gave Murphy a quick hug.

"Be good, Elaine". Murphy soon turned to the girl, "any problems with Conor, I'll sort it out".

"Okay, Corporal Murphy".

Her heart shattered again, because she learned that Elaine was thirteen, just a year younger than Noah. Crouching down a little, Murphy wrapped her into a hug. "I'll see you soon, pal".

Winters smiled sadly and placed his hand on Murphy's shoulder.

Okay, now they really had to go.

They had stayed in this lovely village for nine months.

It had turned into their home away from home.

And Easy would miss it.

It was a two-hour drive to Upottery. But traffic was bad. Lots of military traffic, all headed for the same destination. And they arrived at the field later on that afternoon, just cutting it fine before it reached four. Once they were inside the marshalling area, they sealed them inside. Well, they couldn't escape now if they wanted to.

Locked up, they were soon assigned to tents.

And Murphy was slightly startled by the sight of British Para's dressed as German's. It was to make them familiar with the German uniform and weaponry. Hoobler was very delighted to see that one of the Brits had a Luger and he might have taken it away with him, if the Para didn't demand he return it to him.

Once inside the tents, the Sargent's ordered everyone to take apart and clean their rifles.

Fair enough, Murphy could have used more intimate moments with her weapon.

They all felt ready for combat, they had been trained hard for it.

But even still, it was okay to feel nervous.

Bloser was nervous, Murphy could tell. His hands were shaking, and his magazine rattled in his hands, while he put in each bullet. A great strategy Murphy had picked up during training when faced with fear, was to unload your magazine and start putting the bullets back inside, one by one, counting as you go along. She had shared this with Bloser because it helped her when they came back from a bad field exercise, and she was tired, shaken up and couldn't sleep.

Bloser was doing this now.

You'd be strange not to feel a certain amount of fear.

And fear was sometimes good. Kept you alert and sharp. But too much, you'd crumble.

There was always a balance with fear and finding that was training in itself.

He sighed and wiped sweat off his forehead, "Murph-"

"it's alright, pally". She cut him off softly, "count those bullets, eh?"

Setting his jaw, Bloser looked back down.

Murphy raised her head from her rifle and looked at him.

They had quite the friendship.

It all started with a sparring match and Murphy was glad of the way it happened.

 _"Quit moving!" Bloser yelled, "fight back, come on!"_

 _Murphy was a little confused. Why did he want her to fight back?_

 _"You're fucking impossible!"_

She smiled, he wanted her to fight back because it wouldn't be a fair match if she didn't.

Bloser was a good guy. Dramatic, emotional and fierce.

Murphy hoped combat wouldn't take those quirks away from him.

Clearing her throat, she looked back down at her rifle. "Rob?"

"Yeah?" He whispered, placing another bullet into his magazine.

"I'm glad you punched me in the face".

And then, Bloser laughed.

Murphy grinned.

They slept that night, unaware that the next day, was their briefing.

The next morning, they were called-up. Nixon and Hester had made sand tables, ten to twenty feet long and wide. They build-up Normandy from sand. A perfect copy, down to every detail. Murphy was impressed. On it, they had marked out their drop-zones, towns, beaches, the roads, German artillery positions, foxholes, hedgerows – everything. Intelligence had really outdone themselves with the sand tables. And on top of that, they also had photographs, maps and diagrams. It was appearing to be a well-organised drop into Normandy.

Easy were sat down, while Meehan was at the front of his Company, standing before a map.

"Sainte-Marie-du-Mont". He started off saying, "causeway number one. Causeway number two. The ultimate field problem. The estuary of the Douve River divides two beachheads, code name Utah and Omaha. Seaborne infantry will hit these beaches in force in a date and time to be specified".

Murphy's eyes moved from the map, to Meehan. He was pointing these marked areas out, while explaining the mission to the Company.

"H-hour. D-day". He said, "Airborne's objective, is to the take the town of Carentan, thus linking Utah and Omaha into a single continuous beachhead. Each trooper will learn this operation by heart and know theirs and every other outfits mission to the detail".

"Lieutenant Meehan?" Dukeman asked, standing up.

"Yes, Dukeman?"

"Sir, are we dropping tonight?"

"When it's time for you to know, we'll let you know".

Murphy looked over at Guarnere, who was leaning back with his arms crossed. For some reason, she always figured he knew before everyone else. Not this time it seemed.

"In the meantime". Meehan continued, "study these sand tables, maps and recon photos until you can draw a map of the area by memory". He turned back towards the map, "now, we will be dropping behind this Atlantic Wall five hours before the 4th infantry lands at Utah. Between our assembly area and the Battalion's objective, there is a German garrison. Right here in this area, Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. Easy Company will destroy that garrison".

2nd Platoon were dropping outside Sainte-Marie-du-Mont and were to secure the causeway that ran from the beach through the town of Pouppeville. There were four causeways that ran up from the beaches, 101st needed to secure them so the seaborne troops could get supplies, equipment, artillery, tanks and jeeps at Utah beach and move inland. When the troops got to the shore, they had to take the causeway in. And 101st had to secure those roads and destroy German artillery zeroing in on those beaches.

If they failed, the seaborne troops would be in trouble.

It had to go right.

The officers went over the mission with the Sargent's a lot, the Sargent's went over the mission with their guys, over and over. They had to get it into their heads, so they fell asleep and dreamed about it. Murphy surely dreamed about the mission ahead. And she woke up and studied those sand tables again, making sure her dream didn't give her false information.

The mission lay heavily on them and they just wanted to get it done.

They said it was going to be quick and easy.

Guarnere said to her otherwise.

"I ain't 'gonna lie to you, Murph".

Murphy looked up from the sand table.

"It ain't 'gonna be easy". He said, "no fucking way".

She looked back down and nodded, "I know, Bill".

"How're you feeling about it? You look pretty calm, Murph".

"I'm alright, Bill". Murphy said, "it's not 'gonna be easy but…I think we'll do good".

He smiled, liking that response. "Those Krauts won't know what's hit 'um, huh?"

"Exactly". She said, "they'll be 'fecking shocked when they see us".

Guarnere continued to grin, "alright…I'm heading back. Need to check in on the guys".

"See you, Bill".

"Hey – don't fry your brain, you got this".

Murphy smiled a little and crossed her arms.

Her brain wasn't fried, it was organised. But full of this mission, there wasn't room for much else.

"Murphy".

She smiled, well…maybe something else could slip in.

Murphy dropped her arms and turned around, Winters was walking over to her.

"How's it going?" He asked her softly.

"Good, sir". She responded lightly, "I've got it down".

Winters smiled, "good".

"Yeah…I'm feeling pretty confident, sir". She then asked, "how about you?"

He nodded, "yeah, this should go well". Winters said, "intelligence are confident. They only have the concern of the flooded plains".

"Could take a while for the seaborne to reach us". Murphy mumbled softly, "they're 'gonna have to be careful".

Winters fingers brushed softly against hers, "besides that, you're doing okay?"

She gave him a nod and eventually took his hand, "I'm fine, sir".

Smiling small, he kissed the side of her head. "I'm proud of you Murphy".

Sighing softly, Murphy leaned against his side. "I'm proud of you".

Winters smiled and wrapped an arm around her.

She was quiet for a few moments, "what are your parents names?"

He frowned, not expecting that question. "Uh – Richard and Edith".

"When you write to them next, will you thank them for me?"

"Thank them?"

Murphy turned and looked up him, "thank them for bringing you into this crazy world, sir. Because without you in it, it would burn".

Winters expression fell, though not out of sadness. He was speechless.

"You're something rare and absolutely astonishing". She smiled and placed her hand on the side of his face, "you never cease to amaze me".

God, he loved her.

And he might have told her because she had basically told him.

But someone had entered the tent and cleared their throat.

Thank God it was Nixon.

Murphy took her leave quickly, allowing the two officers to talk.

They had dodged a bullet there.

On that same day, General Taylor arrived to give the 506 an inspirational speech.

"Just give me three days and three nights of hard continuous fighting and by then we will have done our part".

Murphy looked over at Guarnere, who raised an eyebrow at her.

The night day, June the 3rd, they had to exchange their British money into francs.

They were also given a dime store cricket. A little device which when pressed, clicked. One click to be answered by two. And in the darkness of Normandy, if you thought you saw a friendly, you'd call out flash and they'd respond with the password, thunder. Very basic things to learn.

Winters came around and handed out ammo and grenades. As well as extra cigarettes and candy. And after, they all had a hot shower. Murphy spent a long time under the hot shower, not knowing when she'd next have one. She washed her hair, scrubbed her body up good with soap and changed into her uniform once dry. Her hair had grown a lot. The blonde curls went past her shoulder and her fringe was no longer there. She stuck it up into a bun, like always and let it up there to dry.

It was a good day, considering what they were about to do.

But what made it even more interesting was once again, Winters.

Lieutenant Raymond Schmitz was one of Easy's assistant Platoon leaders. In his civilian life, he was a professional boxer. But here, he was nervous and tense for the up and coming drop. Apparently, he had been badgering Winters for a boxing match, which he refused because he wasn't an idiot and about to fight a professional. Later on, Schmitz suggested wrestling. And Winters agreed. Most of Easy had gathered to witness this match, which was held outside. They had a created a circle to witness this, Murphy was right up in the front.

She was biting her lower lip, watching with interest as the man she loved wrestled.

It was a short match, much to Murphy's disappointment.

Schmitz was on his way to hospital, with two cracked vertebrae.

Some of the men even jokingly asked Winters to break their arm for five bucks.

He was amused, though plainly told them; no.

The mood was lifted by that wrestling match.

Murphy went to bed that night, feeling okay.

But soon had to get up and use the latrines.

When she walked inside, Guarnere was standing in the middle of the room.

He was as still as a statue, though Murphy could see a slight tremble in his hand.

It was scary, seeing him like that. Guarnere was always on the move. And he had no idea she was there. Murphy rubbed her lips together and cleared her throat softly.

He didn't turn around. "Get lost".

"No".

Guarnere sharply turned to face her, letter clutched in his hands, "Murph, I'm serious".

He looked ready to kill, not like a hungry lion catching its prey.

But like someone who was deeply hurt and seeking revenge.

Murphy had seen that look on herself a few times.

She never wanted to see it on Guarnere's face.

Or anyone's, for that matter.

"What does it say?" She asked, quietly and evenly.

He blinked and looked back down at the letter.

Murphy stepped towards him, "Bill?"

Guarnere ran a hand down his face, "Henry's dead".

Her heart stopped and broke for him.

"And no one fucking told me!" He was beyond angry. Guarnere's hand clenched into a fist. He turned, wanting to punch the mirror.

Murphy got behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him back. He couldn't injure himself before the drop.

And he was not going through this alone because dealing with death alone, was shit.

"It's shit, Bill". Murphy said into his back, "it's fucking shit".

Slowly, his hands fell, and he leaned against the sink, lowing his head. And he cried.

Murphy closed her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath.

"What the fuck, Murph?" He said tearfully. "My 'ma, Earnest and Pop – how're they feeling?"

"Like hell". She whispered, "it's hell, Bill".

He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his hand, letting out a grunt.

"It hurts, pal". Murphy said softly, "but you have to challenge that hurt and use it".

Guarnere took in a deep breath and straightened himself out.

Murphy let go of his waist, he turned around and faced her.

"You're right". He said, voice low and gruff. "I'm 'gonna kill every last fucking Kraut I see".

She nodded, "good".

There was no controlling Guarnere's aggression. He had released a killer.

Murphy picked up the letter when he left.

"To Johnny…".

It was addressed to Martin from his wife, Pat.

Shaking her head, she rolled the letter up and tossed it into the bin.

Murphy walked out of the latrines, Guarnere was outside and smoking.

She headed into the Sargent's tent and roughly shook Martin awake.

"What the – Murph?"

"He got the letter". Murphy whispered, "you should have told him, he's beyond pissed".

Martin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll talk to him".

"No". She said, "he'll speak to you tomorrow".

"What's that?" Lipton asked, getting out of bed.

Murphy turned to face him, "sorry, Sarge".

He reached their side, "this about Bill?"

Martin nodded, "he fucking knows, Lip".

"He took your jacket by accident". Murphy told them, "found the letter inside".

Lipton rubbed the back of his neck, "where is he?"

"Smoking". She responded quietly, "he'll be having a few".

Martin looked at the 2nd Platoon Sargent, "what're we 'gonna do?"

He looked at Murphy, "how was he?"

She cleared her throat, "not good…but he'll be alright".

Murphy never mentioned his crying. It wasn't something they typically did. And Guarnere would have killed her if she mentioned it to anyone; probably. But there was no shame in it, tears were never a sign of weakness, not for Murphy. If anything, recognising a certain emotion and allowing that to happen for a while, made you a stronger person. But of course, they were always told that those types of emotions were a weakness.

Some people were so close-minded.

"He's angry". She went on softly, "he's 'gonna raise hell in Normandy".

Martin swallowed, "he'll see me tomorrow".

However, tomorrow, they were busy packing up.

It was June the 4th and they had planned to drop.

But by half eight that night, the drop was cancelled due to weather.

…

Murphy could have sat and watched Mr Lucky with the guys.

But she couldn't concentrate.

So, she left the make-shift movie theatre and walked outside.

Murphy was ready for that drop tonight. She just wanted to get it over with. Not from being nervous, but the waiting was the hardest part and they had been waiting since arriving in Aldbourne. And Guarnere needed that drop tonight. She knew he could handle himself and keep a level-head but even still, it was easy to slip out of that persona.

She spotted Winters sitting next to Nixon.

Murphy wondered if the intelligence officer knew about her and Winters.

He probably did. They were best friends, after all.

"Murph?"

She turned around, "hey, Rob".

Bloser rubbed his hands together, "not a fan of the movie?"

Murphy shook her head, "not really".

"Yeah, no ones paying attention anyway. Cary Grant never looked so fucking boring".

She snorted, "oh, who's he?"

Bloser chuckled softly, shaking his head.

Murphy looked up towards the sky.

"You thinking tomorrow?"

"It's highly possible". Murphy whispered, "sky looks clearer now".

Bloser sighed, "yeah…thought that".

And she rubbed her lips together, "I love him". Murphy whispered to the night.

He grinned, with a nod. "Yeah, I know that".

She frowned, "how?"

Bloser shrugged, "the way you look at him, you know? And the way he looks back at you".

Murphy looked away from the sky and towards her friend, "you think it's stupid?"

"No, I think we're all insane". He said, "but you loving Winters? Ah – I've heard crazier, Murph". Bloser then added, "actually…I think it's pretty swell, Murph".

She smiled a little and clapped his shoulder.

The pair remained quiet for a few moments, both looked back up towards the sky.

Murphy hoped everything went well and she hoped her friends stayed safe.

Their life was one hundred times more import than her own.

And Winters life, went beyond the moon.

"Murph, what if something happens?" Bloser whispered.

"Then we'll handle it". Murphy said to him, "just like we always do, pally".

He swallowed, "man…my mom, she was real nice in her last letter".

"I miss my 'mam too, Rob". She told him softly, "just try and not think about it".

"Yeah but what if-". He cleared his throat, "what if I don't see her, then what?"

Murphy squeezed his shoulder.

"Right – yeah, best not think about it, huh?"

"No, Rob". She mumbled, "you can think about it". Murphy said, "just don't dwell in it. She's not the only one who'd miss you".

He smiled, teasing her. "You'd miss me, huh?"

Murphy tutted softly, "of course, you arse".

Bloser nudged her side, "I'd miss you as well, Murph".

They were quiet again.

"And, I'm glad I punched you in the face too".

Murphy chuckled quietly.

And when the film ended, they all headed back to their tents.

But no one slept that night.

Understandable enough.

And the next day, the jump was back on for that night.

Everyone was rushing around, getting ready and packing equipment onto the planes.

They were exhausted from not sleeping and all that built up tension too.

But still, they were wild with nerves mixed with excitement.

It was a very odd feeling.

Murphy used the bathroom six times in the space of four hours.

It was ridiculous but she was not alone. Bloser was the same.

They'd laugh about it, a nervous and shaky kind of laugh.

When it started to get dark, they all blackened their faces with black chalk and grease.

Murphy was always surprised while she applied the "war paint" onto her face. She looked like one of the guys. It covered her freckles and girlish soft features. They all looked like warriors. Liebgott had even made a few bucks, by shaving and cutting some of the guys hair. Some of them were walking around with Mohawks. Guarnere refused to get hair like that.

"Would ruin this pretty face".

Murphy gave him a tiny smile, he was getting madder by the second.

Get this man to war, already!

Liebgott gave a nod, "want one?"

"Get lost".

Guarnere managed the smallest of laughs.

She grinned and nudged his side, "come on, let's get our stuff on".

They were set for take-off at ten past eleven that night.

But first, they had to get on the actual plane with all their gear.

Murphy was putting on her chute, making sure everything was strapped on properly and tight.

Winters and Lipton came around to inspect everyone.

She was in Winters stick that night, with eighteen more guys from 2nd Platoon.

And her heart dropped when Bloser wouldn't be with her.

He had to switch with another guy from Meehan's stick.

Turned out to be Boyle.

"I'll see you soon, huh?"

Murphy smiled stiffly with a sharp nod, "yeah, I'll be seeing you, pally".

Grinning a little, Bloser clapped her shoulder and went off towards his plane.

Once she was all geared up, Murphy sat with the rest.

They were instructed to take an airsickness tablet. One now, the next half an hour later.

It was to help aid with sickness, of course, and nervous butterflies in their bellies.

And Murphy, who was always following orders, forgot to take hers.

Because Winters was soon standing before them.

"Good luck". He told them, "God bless you. I'll see you in the assembly area".

Exhaling shakily, everyone soon went quiet.

Winters helped each man up one by one, shaking their hand after.

Murphy might have held onto his hand for a little longer.

But their eyes stared into each other.

And she felt better. What a man. Murphy was lucky, they were all lucky to have him.

Toye gripped her arm and pulled her up. She sat down on the seat with a huff.

That was a lot of weight to carry and on top of that, the British had offered the idea of a leg bag.

More weight to carry but it was a good idea, she supposed.

It was almost two-hundred pounds worth of gear strapped to them.

Once the chutes were gone, they'd be able to move a little lighter but still. Getting up on that plane was like climbing Everest. Murphy was glad of the seat. Sitting next to her was Muck and on her other side, Gene. Well, if anything did go wrong, at lease they had a medic on board.

Some of the guys started to drop off, claiming that the pills were making them drowsy.

Murphy looked down and opened her hand, revealing the pill.

The hell if she was going to take that now.

She'd sleep through the whole drop!

When the engines roared to life, Murphy jumped a little and the pill dropped onto the floor.

Well, she wasn't going to swallow that now.

The last thing she needed was to pick-up nasty germs from the floor.

Winters was setting her a tiny look of disapproval.

Murphy gave him back the tiniest and sheepish of smiles.

Ops.

His face soon softened, and his eyes held nothing but tenderness.

She smiled a little and leaned back.

Murphy sighed, this was going to be a long journey.

They had the large door open, so men could smoke.

And the plane started to move towards the runway.

One by one, each plane raced down the strip and took off into the air.

Just like in training, they knew what to expect.

But like always, Murphy felt her stomach float away from her body and her ears clog-up.

They usually un-popped once they reached one thousand and five hundred feet. And the relief always felt amazing. Ears back to normal now, Murphy leaned forwards a little and looked around at the rest of the men. They seemed to be half asleep, Guarnere was keeping quiet at the end of the bench opposite her. He was probably the most eager to jump. But then again, everyone was pretty quiet and eager.

Two and a half hours they'd be on this plane.

And already, their stomachs and bladders were working hard.

It was going to be a long journey.


	9. Chapter 9

It was around midnight and Winters got up.

He headed towards the large opening and quickly turned to Murphy, ushering her towards him.

Getting up was a challenge, Gene gave her a push and she soon staggered onto her feet.

She must have looked like a baby taking it's first steps.

And she stumbled onto her knees, almost jumping out a little too early.

Winters wrapped an arm around her waist and pointed below them.

Gripping onto his jacket, Murphy looked down.

Wow.

It was all the troop ships, advancing towards the beaches.

What an inspiring sight. Murphy's lips twitched a little. Winters pulled her into his side.

And for a moment, they forgot they were on a plane, for a moment, they were alone.

Murphy closed her eyes, resting her head lightly against his chest.

Thousands of ships, a plane of eighteen troops.

And they were back in their little corner of the universe.

But the moment had to end, Murphy and Winters returned to their seats.

That could have been her last sweet moment with him.

Murphy gave herself a mental shake; don't be stupid, girl! She told herself. Winters was smart and tough, he'd get through this jump, just like the rest of her friends. She had confidence, you had to have it. Murphy made herself believe that she'd survive this drop.

However.

Just over the coast, they soon ran into bad weather. Fog and clouds, the pilots couldn't see anything. And they had lost sight of the other planes. The plane dropped to one thousand feet, nothing they weren't used to. Six hundred, however, that was a little low.

The red light turned on.

They all got ready to get up.

Winters strapped on his helmet and gave out the instructions.

Murphy was soon on her feet, behind Gene.

The third to jump, just like her first time.

Soon, they underwent heavy and horrible antiaircraft artillery.

The sky was on fire, it lit up like fireworks, in orange and red with flashes of burning white. And they had to go out there and face that. But it felt a lot safer than being on this place, which had now reached five hundred feet. And it was speeding up too, the plane. Dipping from side to side, causing troopers to stagger and some fall.

"We get any lower! We ain't 'gonna need any frigging parachutes!" Muck yelled.

He had a point. The plane was touching cloth by this point. Any lower, they wouldn't even need to jump. And Murphy felt her heart pump with adrenaline.

Get me out of this plane! She thought.

They weren't at their drop zone, but no one seemed to care.

They just wanted off this death trap.

Murphy developed a slight fear of flying after that. It was scary, intense and heart stopping.

And all she could do was wait for that light to turn green.

And it did.

"Let's go!" Winters yelled, before jumping out into chaos.

Oh, Jesus.

Murphy was after Gene.

As soon as she jumped out, her leg bag and rifle were ripped from her.

But that wasn't her worry at the moment.

Planes were getting hit, shells were flying past you and equipment was falling after.

Murphy was sure this was how she was going to die because she saw many troopers die.

They got hit by pieces from planes, shells and bullets.

But Murphy was just glad to be out of that plane. For a moment, all that mattered was she had survived the first part, the plane. They had expected Normandy to be chaos, but nothing could have prepared her for that carnage. And with every plane that was hit, she hoped that didn't belong to her friends, it was devastating.

And she landed hard on the ground, thinking she had broken a lot of bones.

Murphy quickly tore off her chute, got rid of her Mae West vest and felt for any weapon.

A knife, that's all she had. Well, that was useless.

Everyone was falling from the sky. Murphy had to move out of the way, when bundles of equipment threatened to squish her into the earth. And so many troopers were hanging in the trees, dead or almost dead. It was strange how she didn't feel an effect from that.

She needed a gun, that was her main priority. She was no use dead.

Murphy looked around her.

Where the hell was she?

Close to a tree line, Murphy had landed in a field.

Taking out her knife, she slowly got onto her feet and made her way close to the tree-line.

She saw a dead trooper hanging from a tree, his chute was low enough to cut down.

And Murphy needed his gun. If she took one from a German, the Americans would shoot at her.

Sighing quietly, she cut the trooper down.

Murphy knelt beside him and carefully took his gun and ammo.

She took hold of the M-1 and thought of where to go next.

Murphy decided the best thing to do first was look for a sign or a road to follow. If she knew where she was, she'd get to their drop zone. Pouppeville couldn't have been too far. The plane was only six to ten minutes early in dropping. So maybe, it was three or four miles away. But even with that small amount of knowledge, she had no idea where to go. Where she had landed, it wasn't on the sand tables. A random field next to a tree line.

In under a minute, she decided to head straight up the field.

Murphy had good cover amongst the tall crops.

She stuck close to the tree line, keeping one eye in front and the other at the side.

And she walked very carefully, wanting to hear possible footsteps.

At the end of the field, there was a dirt path.

Well, she was already lost. May as well get more lost and she didn't have another alternative but to take this path and hope for the best. It wasn't scary as such, walking alone in Normandy, it was eerie. In the distance was gunfire and, on this path, it was pretty quiet and lonely. On either side of her, were trees and she'd have to be extra careful. The enemy could have been watching her, for all she knew, they could have been hiding amongst the trees, watching her every move.

At least she was armed.

But she was alone and wondering through Normandy, trying to find this town and Easy.

Murphy didn't know how much time had passed but the trees started to go up, forming an embankment. That was never good, she needed to reach higher ground. Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, she made the climb up the slippery slope and soon reached another road, an actual road this time. But she didn't get very far.

While walking, she rounded a corner and spotted a bridge.

And heading towards that bridge was a cart, filled with Germans.

Murphy dove for cover.

She could hear the horses neighing, echoing through the tunnel.

And then, moments later, bap-bap-bap.

That was their rifle.

Murphy slid up and looked out between the leaves.

The Germans didn't make it very far into that tunnel, their troops were shooting them down, in such force and fierce fire. Murphy had to stay low, they'd probably shoot her too. The smartest thing to do was wait until they had finished shooting and then shout, flash.

The firing went on for a good few moments.

"That's enough, Guarnere!"

Murphy's heart raced; Winters.

And Guarnere was with him too.

"Is everyone okay?!"

"Yes, sir".

Murphy, staying low, moved towards the bridge.

"Next time I say wait for my command, you wait for my command, Sargent". Winters was speaking firmly towards him and he didn't need to raise his voice to get his point across.

But the tension was thick between the pair of them.

"Yes, sir". Guarnere almost spat.

 **Bam!**

The horse that was neighing in pain had soon quietened down.

Swallowing, Murphy rubbed her lips together. "Flash!"

"Thunder!"

She got up and soon walked towards the edge of under the bridge.

Well, they really did a number on those Germans.

"Murphy".

She looked over at Winters, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Stepping over the bodies first, she soon climbed over the cart and joined the rest.

Lipton, Winters, Guarnere, Toye, Malarkey, Popeye and some other guy she didn't know.

"Are you okay?" Winters whispered, closing the distance between.

Murphy nodded, "fine, sir – you?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. Letting himself feel relieved.

She discreetly touched his hand, "it's alright, sir".

Winters opened his eyes and nodded, "good to see you again, Corporal".

Murphy smiled small, "you too, sir".

Lipton soon walked towards them, "here you go, Lieutenant, Kraut weapon".

Blinking, Winters took the weapon. And cleared his throat, "moving out, let's go!"

When he moved to the front, Murphy looked over at Guarnere.

"What's that guys problem?" New guy asked, referring to Guarnere.

"Gonorrhoea". Malarkey responded.

Murphy snorted quietly.

"Really?"

"His name, dummy". Malarkey shook his head, "Guarnere, Gonorrhoea, get it?"

"So, besides having a shitty name, what's his problem?"

"None of your fucking business, cowboy". Guarnere spat.

Murphy bit down on her lip and gave his arm a nudge, "come on, Bill".

"Alright let's move out". Lipton said, then adding. "Quietly".

Guarnere shook his head, looking at Murphy. "Fucking cowboy".

"Is that his name?"

"Hall". He scoffed, "Able Company".

Murphy watched, while Hall raced to the front.

"How was your jump?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Was worried you was one of the unlucky fellas from the tree".

"Jump was fine". She mumbled, "you?"

"Thought I broke every Goddam bone in my body". He remarked, "had to find a weapon. Ended up taking this Tommy and a Kraut rifle". He then snorted, "fired it out, got shot at by us, so I got an M-1 instead".

Murphy's lips pulled into a smirk, "you learn quickly out here, pal".

"Too right you do".

She cleared her throat, "what about Hall then?"

Guarnere pulled a face, "what about him?"

Murphy shrugged, "is he an arse or something?"

"He's a pain in the ass". He corrected her, "but he's alright, I guess".

"Alright". She mumbled softly, "so, maybe just tone it down a little, alright? He's probably nervous, pal".

Guarnere sighed, "Murph, stop being the angel on my shoulder. It's piss annoying".

She shook her head, "nope. You'd be in a lot of trouble".

They started to walk on, Murphy made her way towards the front.

Winters's lips twitched.

"Where are we, sir?" Murphy asked, a burning question.

"Sainte-Mere-Eglise".

"82nd Drop zone". She whispered, "we're a few miles away".

Winters nodded, "we are, yeah".

"I was trying to find a sign". Murphy said, "ended up on a dirt road, led me to you".

"I'm glad you're here". He told her, in that adoring and loving soft voice.

"Me too". She responded back, with a soft smile.

Winters looked at her for a brief moment, "your jump?"

"I lost my weapon, sir". Murphy said quietly, "my ammo…had to get some from – well, you know".

"Good". He told her softly, yet firmly. "You had to do what needed to be done".

"That's what I told myself". Murphy looked at him, "your jump?"

Winters sighed softly, "lost my weapon, found Hall pretty quickly".

She looked over at Hall, who was a few feet in front of them. Maybe he was a good guy. He probably was, Guarnere didn't mean it personally. He was going through a lot. And honesty, if Murphy found out about her brother before the drop, she might have been the same. It wasn't her place to say anything to Winters about Guarnere. But she could smooth the tension. Maybe.

Murphy was soon in the middle of their small pack.

Blending in once more.

Lipton had no idea she was next to him for the first few minutes.

"We're missing Bloser from our squad". He whispered to her, "he should be at the drop zone with Meehan".

Murphy nodded, "yeah, Sarge".

He sighed, "some mess, huh?"

She shook her head, indeed. This was a mess. "It'll be fine, Sarge". She said, "we're here. The rest of Easy will get back to us".

Murphy had no idea that it would be, "fine", it was something she just had to tell herself.

They didn't know where the others were and could only hope they were okay.

As for the time being, they continued travelling cross-country through occupied Normandy.

There were a lot of dead. Germans, Americans, French and more animals.

They didn't encounter many natives. Though, one French woman did yell at them for killing a horse, who was in pain. Guarnere, who was still livid, yelled back.

"They're German horses!"

He didn't mean it. But it was war. And no one wants to kill an animal.

Murphy was still slightly worried for her friend. If he didn't snap out of this rage, he might get himself hurt. And Easy wouldn't be the same without Guarnere.

"Why's he like that?"

Frowning a little, Murphy looked to her side. It was Hall.

"Huh? Why's he like that?" Hall asked her again.

She shrugged, "ask him, not me".

He almost laughed at that, "yeah, right – I wouldn't be alive to tell you the answer".

Murphy's lips turned up into a tiny smile. Well, at least he was smart.

"He's your friend, right?"

She nodded, "yeah, he is".

Hall looked at her, "well…you must know".

"You 'wanna be his friend too?"

He pulled a face and soon shrugged, though gave his head a tiny shake.

Murphy sighed, facing the front again. "Right, well. Don't ask me".

Hall looked away from her.

She bit her lip. Was that too harsh? Murphy sighed again. "Look – he doesn't mean it, alright?"

"Sure sounds like it".

"For God's sake". She whispered, "stop thinking about it. You'll just feel like crap".

Hall was being a little defensive. And who could blame him? He wasn't with his buddies. He was with them, with Easy guys. They barely knew each other. Murphy had to cut him some slack.

"You'll be alright, Hall". Murphy softened her voice a little.

He was quiet for a few moments, "I lost my radio. My Lieutenant is going to kill me".

She smiled, while her eyebrows frowned. "I'm sure he'll be glad to see you alive. That's all that matters right now, okay?"

The sun was starting to rise. In the darkness, they had perfect cover. And they were crossing through the flooded fields by this point. Murphy's feet were already wet. She was up front with Hall, Winters wanted her to stick with him. Murphy figured their Lieutenant liked Hall, because he was the first guy he saw after the drop.

Bonds formed quicker out in combat, especially after going through something as traumatic as dropping out of a plane and landing lost and confused, without a weapon. And Hall landed a few feet in front of him.

When they neared a farmhouse, Murphy raised her hand and halted the squad.

Winters moved up to her, eyes scanning the area.

There could have been anything in there. Germans. French. You never knew.

There were a couple of bodies, including a trooper hanging from a tree. And a dead German on the ground, near him.

Murphy couldn't see anything from her position. But the house looked quiet enough.

"Lipton, Wynn!" Winters whispered, beckoning of them to check the area out.

Just to be careful.

It was clear and Murphy let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding.

"Anybody need supplies or ammo, now's the time to get it". Lipton told them.

Murphy was glad to see that Winters took hold of an M-1 and put down the German gun. At least he wouldn't get shot at by a friendly now.

She didn't need much, though Malarkey had instructed Hall to check the German for a Luger. He had called first dibs if anyone found it, apparently, he wanted to gift the Luger back to his little brother. Well, he'd need to get passed Hoobler first, he was dying to get his hands on one too. Murphy reached inside the trooper's musette bag and brought out a strip of ammo.

"Joe". She called, tossing him the strip.

"Thanks, Murph".

Murphy flattened her feet back onto the ground once more. She had to stand on her toes to reach his bag. And you couldn't think much for taking things you needed from the dead. Not if you wanted to get out of Normandy alive. Maybe one day it would come back and bite her, but it didn't at the time.

A series of planes soon whooshed across their heads.

"It's the navy". Lipton said.

"The landings have started". Winters said to them, "let's go".

"Let's move it out!"

"Right on time". Hall was happy to announce.

Guarnere glared at him once more, "yeah? Tell that to him, cowboy".

"My names Hall".

"Is that so?"

Murphy sighed quietly, moving away from the hanging trooper.

"You just 'gotta learn to return his fire, that's all". Malarkey told Hall.

"You just 'gotta realise that it ain't about you". Toye added.

"I just heard his brother-"

"Malarkey, just your yap". Guarnere warned him, before walking off.

Murphy looked over at the red-head. Would he tell him?

He sighed, "his brother got it at the Cassino. Found out before we jumped".

Hall frowned a little and looked from Malarkey to Guarnere.

Well, at least he knew not to take it so personally.

At six in the morning, they arrived in a small town called Le Grand Chemin, within Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. They soon approached a dirt road, the mud was so thick and slippery, it was hard not to slide around like you were ice-skating. Battalion were at the farmhouse, at the bottom of the mud road. So, that's where Winters led them. There some guys from Dog Company, far more than what they had in Easy. And a few from Fox.

Liebgott was there to greet them, as well as Buck.

Petty, Ranney, Hendrix and Plesha were there as well.

And three hundred yards away, they could hear heavy fire.

Well, that concluded Battalion's objective.

But they only had ten guys and two officers. Surely, they'd pick another Company.

"Hey, Murph". Liebgott gave her a pat on the back, "good to see you alive".

"Oh, yeah". She mumbled, "you too, Lieb".

"This here is Hall, Able Company". Popeye told Liebgott.

"Known as cowboy". Guarnere added with a smirk.

Liebgott gave Hall a nod, "you from Texas?"

"Manhattan".

It was good to have more guys, most of which were from 2nd Platoon.

Murphy sat down with the rest. After walking for several hours, it was good to finally sit down.

She brought out her canteen and took a long drink, not realising how thirsty she was.

Murphy would have chewed Bloser's ear off for doing a similar thing.

Dehydration was a soldier's worst enemy, after all.

More gunfire went off, Murphy almost dropped her canteen.

"Are those 88's, Sarge?" She asked Lipton, who was sitting next to her.

"I think so, Murph". He mused, "sure sounds heavy enough".

Murphy rubbed the back of her neck, "yeah…think we'll have to stop them from firing?"

"Maybe, bud". Lipton mumbled softly.

"They're the guns that took down our planes, Sarge?"

"Probably".

Buck and Winters soon joined them.

Murphy looked over at the officers.

No sign of Meehan. She figured.

Which left Winters in charge of Easy. And without Evans, Lipton would now act as Company 1st Sargent. Making Guarnere their Platoon Sargent and Malarkey the mortar squad Sargent. Which then meant, Toye was now her squad leader.

Murphy rubbed the side of her head, she shouldn't be thinking of promotions.

"How's it going, Murph?" Buck asked her, with a light smile.

"Good, sir". She responded, "glad to see you lot again".

Really, they should have been dead on their feet, but adrenaline kept them up and energised.

"How was your jump, sir?" Murphy asked him.

He sighed a little, "Cobb got hit. He'll be fine".

"That's a shame about Cobb, sir". She said quietly, "but, sir. I asked how you were".

Buck chuckled, "Murph, if we were back in Aldbourne. I might have put you on latrine duties for talking back".

She smiled, shaking her head; he wouldn't have.

"I'm fine". Buck responded, "happy?"

Murphy, still smiling, nodded. "Ecstatic, sir".

Curiously, she looked over at Winters, who had the tiniest smile on his face, obviously hearing their conversation. Murphy wondered if he knew of his position now that Meehan wasn't around for the moment, and he probably did. It was a good thing everyone trained to take charge and go up a rank if something were to happen – something like this. And that would probably save their lives because they knew what to do.

Murphy still had to ask about Meehan. Bloser was on his plane.

"Any news of the guys from Lieutenant Meehan's stick, sir?"

Buck shook his head, "sorry, Murph".

She couldn't think about it, not right now. Murphy pushed all worries to the back of her head.

They could still show up, after all.

Battalion wanted Easy's CO up front. And Winters got up.

Murphy's eyes followed after him.

Looks like they were taking the objective.

They had only been sitting down for ten-minutes but it seemed long enough.

Everyone just wanted to get this over with.

Malarkey soon joined them again, Murphy didn't realise he had gone off.

He looked a little pale and shaky and took a sip from his canteen.

Frowning, Murphy followed his stare and saw Lieutenant Speirs, an officer from Dog Company.

What the hell did Malarkey see?

And she might have asked him, but they were soon called-up.

"Show time". Buck said, "alright – to the farmhouse, let's go".

"On your feet!" Lipton called after, "let's go!"

They entered a run-down barn, Winters was at the end of a table.

And Murphy stood at the edge of the table, Hall lurking behind her.

"The 88's we've been hearing have been spotted in a field down the road. Major Strayer wants us to take them out". Winters began to tell them, "there are two guns that we know of, firing on Utah Beach". He drew an L shaped trench on a piece of paper, marking where the guns had been spotted with an X, "plan on a third and fourth, here and here".

Four guns. Twelve guys all together.

"The German's are in trenches with access to the entire battery. With machine gun covering their rear. We'll establish a base of fire and move under it hard and fast with two squads of three".

Murphy nodded slowly, trying to picture this all in her head.

"How many Krauts do you think we're facing?" Guarnere asked.

"No idea". Winters responded evenly.

He raised an eyebrow, giving him a nod. "No idea?"

Murphy figured Guarnere was pissed after Winters getting on at him for not waiting for his command during their ambush to take down those Germans heading under the bridge.

"We'll take some TNT along with us to spike the guns. Lipton, your responsibility".

"Yes, sir".

"Liebgott, you'll take the first gun, with Petty A-gunner. Plesha, Hendrix, you take the other". Winters told them, "who does that leave?"

Murphy raised her hand with the rest.

"Flynn, Compton, Malarkey, Toye, Guarnere and Wynn". He said, "okay. We'll be making the main assault, understood?"

"Yes, sir".

Murphy had to stop for a moment and think.

Winters got called up and two minutes after, he had gathered Easy.

It took him two minutes to think up a plan.

And what a good plan. It was solid and simple to understand.

Honestly, perfect for their first ever objective.

"Shouldn't you be outside with the other Able Company guys?" Toye asked Hall gruffly.

"See you around, Hall". Guarnere added with a snort.

Murphy headed outside after Guarnere and Toye.

They were all gathering up any ammo they could find, they had limited supplies after the drop and equipment ending up in the wrong zone as well. Murphy left her musette bag behind, there was nothing important in it, her ammo and grenades were attached to her jacket and webbing.

"Lieutenant, sir? I was wondering, sir, if you needed an extra hand?"

Toye pulled a face, "ain't you Sink's jeep driver?"

He blinked, "so?"

Guarnere sighed, "oh, shit". He said, before wondering away from them.

"What's your name, trooper?" Winters asked the driver.

"Lorraine, sir".

"You're with me, Lorraine".

Eleven guys and two officers.

And they were about to head off to an objective, facing God knows how many Germans.

"Alright, you heard the word". Lipton yelled, "let's move! Move!"

Murphy took in a deep breath.

A flutter of butterflies bubbled in her stomach.

Adrenaline pumped through her blood, causing her heart to race.

And training kicked in.

She stepped forward and joined the rest.

Here they come.


	10. Chapter 10

It took them nine minutes to reach the source of fire.

Between them and the trenches with the guns, was open field.

Staying low, they got around the tall and impossible hedgerows and ended up in the field.

Hedgerows were the worst possible thing to encounter.

They were like cement walls, branches thick and twisted together, and they stood at around ten feet and six feet wide. They couldn't see over them and they couldn't jump over. They had told them about the hedgerows back in Upottery, claiming they were only three feet.

Well, they got that wrong.

Luckily for them, they got around the hedgerows and ducked in the field.

Lipton was up in the front, taking cover by an abandoned truck.

Winters soon joined him and got into the truck, taking a closer look at that they were facing.

The guns were set in a trench, covered by machine-gun fire from across an open pasture.

He could spot three from this position and marked the first gun.

There were MG42s machine-guns. A powerful gun the Germans had to offer.

Quickly, Winters organised a team to take the first gun.

Compton, Malarkey, Guarnere and Murphy.

Winters had set up spots for their light machine-guns, giving them covering fire. And had sent Lipton and Ranney to the right, giving them more covering fire. The rest were to position themselves near the truck, with Winters.

Staying low, the four of them soon ran across the field and towards the trench.

The daunting part came from yet another hedgerow.

From behind there, they had no idea what they were facing.

Murphy bit her lip and looked over at Buck.

Winters and the covering fire started to shoot towards the first gun.

Lipton and Ranney were up in a thin tree, shooting out from there.

They were all crazy.

Buck burst out from the hedgerow first, taking the plunge.

Nothing happened, the Germans were busy shooting at the rest.

Murphy followed after Guarnere, with Malarkey behind her.

They got down, Buck leaned back towards them.

He signalled for them to use their grenades first.

He could spot three by the gun. Right where they were headed.

Getting up, they took out their grenades, un-clipped them and tossed them at the Germans.

 **Boom!**

They advanced forward and raced towards the trench and gun.

As soon as they jumped down into the trench, Buck's rifle acted up and one German, who was wounded from the grenade, reached for his gun.

"Oh, shit!"

Luckily for Buck, Malarkey shot that German.

From across the field, Germans were rushing around and firing at them.

So many Germans…Murphy couldn't believe it.

It was a shock, but she didn't feel much of it in that moment.

Moving down the trench, she started to fire from the edge.

Guarnere had his Tommy-gun and was shooting at them like no tomorrow.

It was almost like a game, a target game at the funfair.

They were out in the open, the Germans were. Easy had caught them by surprise.

Winters and the rest soon reached their trench.

And at that moment, Popeye went down.

"Fuck! My ass!"

The sky was falling with bullets. It was bound to hit someone.

Murphy got down and reached his side, helping him flip onto his belly, to ease the pressure off his bottom. Poor Popeye. And he was yelling out apologies for fucking up, thinking he had let everyone down.

"Murph! Get back to position, I've got it!" Toye told her.

Nodding, she gave Popeye's shoulder a squeeze, before making her way over towards the edge again and continued with firing out.

Murphy did hit a few, she didn't know if they were dead, but they went down. But she didn't care because they were trying to shoot back at them. And it was like in training, with the switch. Just do your job, that's all that mattered.

Fire and push them back.

And the Germans were running wild. Easy had obviously caught them by surprise. And maybe they were lucky because the Germans must have thought a whole Platoon was after them. If they figured out their numbers were very low, they'd all be dead. That's why Easy had to act fast and fire hard, so the Germans didn't have time to figure it out.

Thirteen against a whole German Platoon.

They were mental and filled with adrenaline, like superheroes.

At it like cats and dogs, Murphy almost didn't hear Winters.

"Toye! Roll out! Roll out!" He hollered.

She ducked and turned to face Toye.

What was he meaning?

 **Boom!**

A grenade went off behind him, Toye was on top of Popeye, who was screaming in agony.

Murphy's heart stopped. And Guarnere was staring back at him too.

Toye soon sat up and checked to see if all his important body parts were still attached to his body. Of course, the first place he checked was his groin. Murphy might have laughed, and something along the lines of a huff and a cough pressed through her lips.

How the hell did he survive that?

"You're one lucky bastard, Joe!" Guarnere exclaimed.

He pulled Murphy back onto her feet.

"Get them, Murph!"

Snapping out from her stunned state, she continued to fire out, with Guarnere by her side.

Things progressed quickly, Malarkey, Guarnere and Lorraine went off to secure the first gun. They needed to wait for Lipton to arrive with the TNT, before they could destroy it. And the man was nowhere to be found yet, he was still in that tree, giving them covering fire with Ranney.

Honestly, they were doing things today they'd never do again.

Murphy thought she was actually invisible that day and the Germans couldn't hit her.

She'd probably never think that again, the adrenaline kept them going.

And Murphy stayed put with Toye, while Winters and Buck helped Popeye.

The wounded man said he'd be fine to go back alone, he'd just need to crawl back on his belly.

During the process of getting Popeye out, Buck spotted a German running past the trench.

"Winters! One o'clock!" He yelled, while un-clipping his grenade, ready to throw it at him.

However, the grenade slipped from his hands and landed back into the trench.

Close to Murphy and Toye.

"Toye! Flynn! Roll out!"

They both turned back towards the trench and were almost out.

When it went off, Murphy flew back with Toye.

She had never heard a noise like it, it deafened her and made her ears ring.

"Murphy!" Winters almost screamed, while he ran over to her.

She was sitting up, helmet no longer on her head.

"Joe?" She mumbled.

He was pissed, "Jesus Christ – fucking twice?!"

Murphy patted down her body. She was fine and so was Toye.

How?

Winters was crouched in front of her, putting her helmet back on.

Sighing, she looked at him.

"You're okay". It wasn't a question, it was to assure them both.

Murphy gave herself a shake, mud soon fell from her face and jacket. "Yup".

A tiny smile reached his lips, "ready to take that second gun?"

"Right behind you, sir".

The four of them ran down the trench, second gun coming into view.

Everything was flying their way, they had to stay low to avoid bullets and grenades.

Murphy felt glad of her height, she didn't have to bend as much as them.

And she wasn't much of a target, so far, she had been lucky and blended with the rest.

Grenades first.

They tossed their grenades towards the gun, a few of the Germans went down.

They shot the rest and one of them raised their hands, pleading for his life.

Battalion had told them to take no prisoners.

Though, it was hard when this German was yelling to spare his life.

At least, that's what Murphy thought he was saying.

Toye was getting riled up, "shut the fuck up!"

Eventually, he punched the guy and knocked him out. Murphy looked at his hand.

"Brass knuckles, pal?"

Toye huffed, while Winters clapped his shoulder.

Back at the first gun, things were about to take a tense turn. Malarkey could have sworn one of the dead Germans had a Luger. And he ran out across the field to check.

"Christ!" Petty exclaimed, "they must think he's a medic or something!"

"He's 'gonna need a Goddamn medic!" Guarnere yelled back.

It wasn't a Luger, it was a sighting device for the guns.

And on his way back, the Germans opened fire.

"Come on!" Guarnere was beyond livid by this point.

Malarkey, despite falling a few times from the slippery surface, made it back.

"Forgot your frigging Luger? Should I get it for you? Stupid mick!"

Winters and Murphy were running down the trench, heading towards them.

They had both seen Malarkey, Winters had called him an idiot a few times.

And Murphy had to side with the man on that one; it certainly wasn't a smart move.

It was pretty wild by the first gun now, Malarkey had drove a lot of firing their way from his stunt. Murphy and Winters jumped down and joined them, after crossing a small opening. She slid in between Guarnere and Malarkey. And reached into her webbing, pulling out another round of ammo. Man, she was running low now.

Winters reached over and gave Guarnere's arm a nudge. "Where's Lipton with that TNT?!"

"Don't know, sir!"

Lipton was trying to reach him but came under obstacles. One of them being the field, which was wide and out in the open. And the other, Popeye. He was helping him out, sprinkling sulphur on his wound. And Popeye was worried he'd have to go home now; he just got here!

But they didn't know that.

For all they knew, Lipton and Ranney were still stuck up that tree.

"Hiya, cowboy!"

Murphy looked in the front of her, towards the other side of the trench.

"Shut your fucking guinea trap, Gonorrhoea!"

She smiled a little, it was Hall.

Guarnere nudged Murphy's arm, "he's alright, that kid!"

Well, at least he was in a better-ish mood.

Murphy clipped in a new magazine to her rifle and sat up a little, popping a few shots.

God, they were hammering in one them like flies to shit. They needed to make a move.

"Jesus, you got a whole Kraut Platoon out there!" Captain Hester exclaimed, who had come down with Hall.

"Probably more, Captain!" Winters replied.

"Need help?!"

"I need ammo, sir. Lots of it! And TNT!"

"I've got TNT, sir!" Hall called back to him.

"Good job, Private!"

Soon, Winters and Hall heading up towards the gun.

They all gave them covering fire.

Hall placed the TNT inside the cannon, while Winters searched for something to set it off with.

A German stick grenade – or, a potato masher as they called it.

"Fire in the hole!"

The first gun was destroyed.

It was time to move onto the next.

"Plesha covering fire! Third gun here! Lorraine, grab some of those potato mashers and follow me!" Winters was yelling out their next move, "Malarkey, Hall, Murphy – you as well, go!"

They all followed the Lieutenant back down the trench and towards Buck and Toye, who were still at the second gun. They had secured it, now they needed to destroy it and move onto the third gun, then the fourth. It felt like seconds had passed since they secured the first gun, everything was moving so fast.

"Running a little low on ammo, sir!" Buck informed him.

"How about you, Malarkey?!" Winters asked.

"Okay!"

"Think you've got enough to take the third gun?!"

"We'll soon find out, Dick". Buck told him, "Malarkey, let's go! Toye, cover us!"

What a guy. Buck was great. Always sounding so determined and fierce.

Hall went off with them, leaving the TNT behind.

Winters grabbed Murphy's hand, pulling them towards the front of the gun.

He then handed her the TNT.

"Give it a go, Murphy!"

Murphy got up and stood on her tip toes, just managing to reach the mouth.

Winters watched her closely, smiling a little, when she almost didn't reach. She had been so quiet, she must have been in some zone and kept focused throughout. It was hard for others to notice she was there half the time, but Winters always noticed Murphy.

Sticking the TNT inside, she soon moved back.

Winters stuck in the grenade and tugged on the string.

"Fire in the hole!"

They both moved towards Toye, Winters covered them.

The cannon went off, another gun down.

"Let's see how that third guns looking!" Winters told her.

Murphy nodded.

"Toye, Lorraine, cover us!"

"Sir!"

Murphy and Winters ran down the trench and reached an underpass.

When he suddenly stopped, she bumped into his back.

What was the hold-up?

Winters soon knelt down, she followed his gaze.

Oh, shit.

It was Hall – he was dead.

Murphy felt her heart tug, while Winters swatted a few flies from Hall's face.

Rubbing her lips together, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

That had to be hard on Winters. He had lost his first man. A moment he'd never forget.

Murphy closed her eyes for a moment and squeezed his shoulder.

It wasn't your fault and I love you; she wanted to tell him.

But they had to move.

Reaching the third gun now.

Buck took the TNT and stick grenade, while Winters jumped into a dug-out. He managed to pick-up a couple of maps, which thought might help with their time in Normandy. While up at the gun, Murphy was firing out with Malarkey. She didn't know how many Germans they had killed between them, but it must have been a lot. They were doing some serious damage.

"I saw you!" Murphy yelled over the fire. "You're insane, Malarkey!"

He stayed quiet for a few seconds, "yeah – probably!"

"Us Irish, we lost our minds years ago!"

Malarkey soon smiled, "right!"

With the third gun now secured, they had planned to take on the fourth.

When Speirs showed up with ammo and some of his guys.

"Winters!" He said, "Hester said you needed ammo!"

"Malarkey! Take as much as you can for everyone!"

Murphy received more ammo for her rifle.

While Malarkey slung machine-gun rounds across his neck and started to make his way wound each guy, handing them out.

Speirs took the fourth gun, with his guys and Guarnere.

That wild man, she thought, watching Guarnere run with them.

And Speirs was mental enough to run on top of the trench.

A few of his guys died.

And the Germans ran away from him, scared shitless.

What a guy.

With the fourth gun now destroyed, they all fell-back and headed back to Battalion.

Getting there was hard, the Germans had brought more machine-guns.

Winters was the last to leave, wanting to make sure firstly that his guys got out and secondly, that they tried to push the remaining Germans back. They couldn't get them all, however but all in all, Easy had killed fifteen Germans and captured twelve as prisoners.

For such a small amount they had, Murphy thought it was well led, small assault force.

And she was proud of them all.

The adrenaline hadn't worn off yet because they were once again, on the move.

And the sounds from the remaining Germans could be heard from behind the hedgerows.

Winters reckoned there were around forty more Germans left.

And he also stated that the guns were 105's, not 88's.

Brecourt was secured by mid-afternoon. And the Germans began withdrawing and heading towards Carentan. And Easy made the walk into a small village outside of this town.

…

It was nightfall by the time they reached this small village.

They had one hour's rest before they moved out to secure the town of Culoville.

And just like a ton of bricks had fallen on her, the adrenaline left Murphy.

Her legs shook dramatically and Toye quickly grabbed her arm, before she landed in a heap on the ground. She couldn't believe they had just done all that. Murphy rubbed her eyes a few times – how the hell did she make it out of there alive?! How were any of them still alive?

Murphy was pushed onto the back of the truck.

Lipton, Malarkey, Buck, Toye, Liebgott, Guarnere, Petty, Ranney, Plesha and Hendrix.

They had all managed to squeeze into the back.

One hour they had, and Malarkey had stared to put various foods into a small pot, above a small fire. It didn't smell too bad, Murphy could have eaten anything by that point; she was starving.

"You good, Murph?" Guarnere asked, clapping her shoulder.

She gave a tiny nod.

"We – uh – we did good, huh?" Toye said to them all.

"Two strikes". Guarnere told him, "how'd that feel, Joe?"

"Shit". He muttered, "Murph took the second strike with me".

"Yeah?" Lipton asked.

"That was my doing". Buck said, "Goddamn grenade slipped out of my hands".

"We forgive you, sir". Toye smirked.

Murphy sighed quietly, "we were pretty bad-ass".

"We were". Liebgott grinned. "Lip even climbed up a tree".

"Won't be doing that again". He said, "those Germans spotted us straight away".

The mood was relaxed.

They spoke about the assault, praised each other and laughed at some moments.

Though, they couldn't talk about Hall. Not yet.

Besides, Malarkey's ass had a lot more to say.

"Jesus! Let me 'outta here!" Liebgott left the truck.

"Light discipline! Guarnere, close that flap!"

"Let the Krauts cook their own Goddamn food". Guarnere muttered, closing the flap.

Murphy must have dosed off.

"How're we doing, Malark?"

"We're doing good, Bill".

"Yeah? What the hell do you know about cooking? You're Irish". Buck stated.

Malarkey smirked, "sir, if you have reservations elsewhere, I'd be happy to go with you".

He handed the food out.

Guarnere gave Murphy a nudge, "wake up, Murph. Eat whatever the fuck Malark's made".

She opened her eyes and took the dish which was handed to her, "thanks".

"Can the Irish cook?" Hendrix asked her.

"What's that?" Murphy rubbed her eyes with her hands, "eh – yeah, I mean – 'ma's a good cook. Granny's better, though". She said, "but I don't get along with Granny much".

"No?" Guarnere asked.

She shook her head, "too strict, she was always-". Murphy looked down at her food, "always too harsh with Noah, I suppose".

They didn't know about Noah. So, couldn't understand why her voice went quiet.

"He's dead".

Guarnere's face turned serious. And he shook his head, "that's shit, Murph".

"Yeah – I suppose it is". Murphy cleared her throat, "it's fine, happened in February. Ages ago".

Everyone went quiet, she felt terrible for ruining the mood.

"Might be good to get that arse checked out, Malark". Murphy added lightly, "you 'fuckin stink, pal".

The sullen mood was lifted once more.

And soon, Winters poked his head into the truck.

"Evening". He said smoothly.

"Evening, sir".

"Did something die in here?"

Murphy smiled.

"Yeah, Malarkey's ass!" Hendrix said, some of them chuckled.

"Any word of Lieutenant Meehan, sir?" Buck asked him curiously.

Winters shook his head, while he tried to open a ration can. "No, not yet".

Guarnere looked at him, "don't that make you our Commanding officer, sir?"

"Yeah, it does".

Toye handed him a bottle of cider, "sir".

"Joe, the Lieutenant don't drink".

However, Winters took the bottle. "It's been a day of firsts". He then looked at Guarnere, "don't you think, Guarnere?"

He gave a nod, "yes, sir".

Watching him take his first ever drink, was brilliant.

And he obviously hated it, quickly handing the bottle back to Toye.

"Carry on". He said.

They wished him goodbye.

But Winters soon looked back into the truck, "oh, Sargent".

Guarnere looked at him again, "sir?"

"I'm not a Quaker".

Murphy pulled a face, what did that mean?

Guarnere and a few others were laughing.

"He's probably a Mennonite!"

"What's a Mennonite?" Toye questioned, brows furrowed.

Murphy looked up at Guarnere, "you know, Bill…you have the loudest mouth".

"Right, I know". He grinned, clapping her shoulder.

She snorted, "you're lucky he likes you – you silly bugger".

Murphy left the truck after eating and rinsed out her food dish with water from her canteen.

Nixon passed her, though never noticed her.

She placed her dish back into her musette bag, soon spotting Winters, who was up slope.

And she walked towards him.

Murphy stood at the bottom of the small hill. Winters took off his helmet, staring at something.

Taking in a deep breath, she soon made her way up there.

On one side of her, a few guys from Fox were sitting around a jeep and smoking. But Winters had found a quiet spot, next to another jeep, which was he leaning against.

Murphy reached his side.

Across the water, a whole town was being bombed.

The whole sky lit up in orange from the flames.

She turned away from the chaos and looked up at Winters, who hadn't met her eyes yet.

"Normandy is on fire". Murphy whispered.

Slowly, he turned and met her gaze.

She stepped closer to him, "it's on fire…and I love you". Murphy told him, voice soft with a hard and firm edge to it.

Murphy had never been so sure about anything in her life.

The helmet fell onto the ground, creating a soft thud and soon, his hands were cupping the sides of her face gently.

Murphy reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

And they kissed.

It was hard, passionate and long overdue.

And it was everything and more.

For Winters, it wasn't his first kiss. But it was the first kiss which truly mattered.

The whole world stood still, and the war stopped along with it.

Murphy found heaven on his lips, security in his hands and a life of love in his eyes.

It was the most she had felt. Her heart was bursting out of her chest.

And when they pulled back, they stayed close.

Winters pressed his forehead against hers. "I love you, Murphy".

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, "I'll be terrible at this, I've never felt this way".

"Me neither". He whispered.

"Tell me if I'm crap, okay?"

Winters chuckled, very softly and quietly. "Murphy, you won't be bad. When I first met you, I thought you were perfect. And then I got to know you better and realised you had quirks, flaws and I loved you even more".

Rubbing her lips together, she pulled back a little, just to see his eyes. Smiling small, Murphy pressed her hand on the side of his face. "I'm so proud of you".

Winters eyebrows twitched.

"You were born to build men up and see their full potential. You didn't have to have faith in us, you just knew we had it in us". Murphy whispered, "and today, you proved that with the right plan, even the smallest number of guys, can change the course and save many lives. And I'll say it again, Richard Davis Winters…you're remarkable". She then added, "and I love you".

By the end of her little speech, Murphy felt her eyes burn.

Winters searched her eyes, "I couldn't have done any of that, without you all. You've made me very proud, I'm lucky to be fighting along side you".

"I babble on a lot, eh?" She smiled, which wavered.

"You don't do it nearly enough". Winters said to her softly, "and, Murphy?"

"Yeah?"

"My middle name?"

Murphy snorted softly, "I overhead you bring it up in a conversation".

Smiling, Winters grazed his fingers gently across her jaw. "I hope you're ready for me to love for a very long time, Murphy Flynn".

"I've been ready for a while".

Falling in love with Winters happened overnight.

It was always going to be easy.

He was everything she had ever wanted.

And the second kiss, felt just as wonderful as the first.

It was truly magical.

They walked back down the slope together, fingers touching.

Murphy knew they would be able to find a balance with love and war.

For now, the world wouldn't know of their love for each other.

It would remain in their quiet little place in the universe.


	11. Chapter 11

Where was Bloser?

Lieutenant Welsh and Lieutenant Warren arrived before they set out and brought thirty guys.

None of them had Bloser or Meehan.

Murphy tried not to think about it and enjoyed the relief from seeing everyone else with the others. It was good to see Muck, Luz and Grant again. They were glad to see their Irish friend had made it out of the plane alive. Penkala and Muck were eager to see Malarkey the most. Who in return, informed them about the battery assault. They all filled in each other in with what happened to them after the drop. A few guys had back-tracked to the drop zone, some of them headed straight for Battalion.

But Easy were getting stronger, that's what mattered the most.

And they needed all the strength.

Winters came around and made sure all his guys were digging in.

They had reached Culoville and were positioning themselves around the village.

This was where Battalion headquarters were now, and they needed to keep it secured.

Murphy was dug in beside Guarnere and Toye.

The three of them were sitting closer to a tree line. The trees looked like Germans – everything looked like the enemy. It was hard to switch off from Brecourt. And Guarnere had the shakes from the adrenaline leaving his body. Murphy figured a lot of things were leaving his body, one of them being rage. The man had gone mad out there, someone had even given him a new name, Wild Bill.

Wild Bill. Murphy snorted softly. She liked it.

"I bet the plane got hit".

Guys had started to speculate on what happened with Meehan's plane.

And it was hard for Murphy to hear. Luckily, she had Guarnere and Toye.

"Shut your fucking yap, go to sleep". Guarnere scolded the guys behind them.

Clearing her throat, Murphy nodded. "Thanks".

He looked at her, "prepare yourself for that, Murph". Guarnere warned her quietly.

"I am, yeah". Murphy responded, as if someone warned her about an inspection coming up the next day. Because she couldn't process that, not yet. It was still too early to be thinking about friends dying – they just got here.

"You see Boyle?" Toye asked them, changing the subject.

"I saw the mick, yeah". Guarnere said, "Martin ain't showed-up yet".

"Still time". He said, before looking at Murphy. "Same goes to you, Murph".

Sighing quietly, she crossed her arms. "Right – let's get some sleep".

Like most of the men, Murphy wasn't in the best of moods.

They hadn't slept in two days, everyone was exhausted. But it wasn't easy falling asleep. Murphy had a terrible night. She kept on waking up, thinking a German was coming out from the tree line. A few times, she woke up Guarnere or Toye, just to make sure she was imagining this. They weren't happy with being woken-up. But could understand why she was so alert.

The next morning, it had already started to rain.

The weather was terrible in Normandy. Muggy, hot, wet and stormy.

Mosquitoes were an issue as well, always trying to suck the life out of them. Murphy's neck was red raw from slapping the little bastards away.

God, she missed England.

On a brighter note, Martin turned up with Hoobler and Dukeman.

Guarnere was beaming when he saw the Sargent. And Murphy was happy to see that his body had stopped shaking so much. She was beginning to worry Guarnere was in some sort of shock. But dismissed that worry as quickly as it came; shock and Wild Bill didn't make any sense.

"Murph, we need more guys". Toye told her that morning, "just me and you in this squad".

She nodded and put down her ration. "Want me to see Winters about that?"

Just any excuse to see him would be fine, really.

"Yeah, sure". He agreed easily, "think he's in that house over there".

Murphy got up from the wall she had been sitting on. Grabbing her rifle, she slung it over her shoulder and made her way towards the house. They had made that house CP, it's where all the decisions and briefings were held. Though, they hadn't had any word on moving out yet.

Easy had seemed to push Carentan to the back of their minds.

She walked into the small house, finding herself in the tiniest hallway.

Taking a step forward, Murphy looked into an open doorway and saw him.

Winters was leaning over a table, staring down at a map.

Better yet, he was alone.

Smiling, Murphy leaned against the doorway, just looking at him for a moment.

Even covered in mud, he was perfect.

Pushing herself off from the doorway, Murphy stepped into the quaint living room.

The owners had left in a rush. But were kind enough to leave some furniture.

Winters's head lifted at the sound of soft footsteps. And he soon smiled.

"Murphy". He uttered beautifully.

She stood before him with a smile. "Morning, sir".

Winters took her hands and kissed her softly on the lips.

Murphy smiled a little into the kiss.

He pulled back, "sleep alright?"

She huffed quietly, "great, yeah".

"I'm sure". Winters teased knowingly, "everything okay?"

"My Sargent sent me here, actually". Murphy said, "seems we're shorthanded".

"Yeah". His eyebrows twitched, "okay – McClung and Carson, they'll make up the balance".

Giving him a tiny nod, Murphy gripped his collar. "Thank you, sir".

Winters smiled, kissing her again.

What a way to greet the morning.

Her eyes soon wondered down to the map. "May I?"

Winters nodded, watching her. "You may".

Smirking, Murphy placed her hands on the table, staring at the map of Normandy.

Winters had already started to draw out a course for them. It seemed simple enough. Providing they didn't run into any trouble. So, there final destination on the map was Carentan. From here, they'd head south through Vierville to Sainte-Come-du-Mont, cross the Douve River and head into Carentan.

He snaked his arms around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. "See anything you like?" Winters whispered into her ear.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "plenty, sir".

"We're first in the column towards Vierville".

"Aren't we special". She mumbled softly.

His lips twitched, "I suppose we are, yeah".

"When are we leaving?"

"Soon". Winters said, lips softly pressing against her neck. "We're in front, headquarters are behind, Dog and Fox behind them. 1st Battalion will be in the lead".

Murphy turned back around, Winters lifted his chin from his shoulders.

Smiling, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I have to get back now".

He nodded, though they both would have liked a little more time together.

Murphy could have spent hours with him in that tiny living room.

But she had to organise this squad.

Kissing him again, Murphy soon left the house.

Carson and McClung were easy enough to find. They were both sitting with each other.

"You two are with me and Joe". She told them both, "spoke to Lieutenant Winters".

"Fair enough". McClung shrugged, "we leaving this dump anytime soon, Murph?"

The village was a bit of a dump. The French weren't bothered about cleaning up it seemed.

"Yeah". Murphy responded, "got enough supplies?"

"Sure do". Carson responded eagerly.

Gordon Carson was young. He was eighteen when he joined Easy in Toccoa.

He had a boyish face and a cheeky smile. From New York, he had a good upbringing.

Carson was liked by everyone in Easy.

"Gordy, you'd best be calming down". Murphy told him lightly, "I don't 'wanna burst you bubble of excitement but-"

"got it, Murph". He smiled, "hey, they say where we're heading?"

Murphy shook her head, not sure if she should be sharing too much.

"Well…I hope it's someplace better than this". Carson said. "I haven't seen any French".

"They're busy". McClung grunted, "hiding in their fucking houses".

Murphy raised an eyebrow, though Carson laughed and slapped his shoulder.

"Such a stick in the mud, Earl".

Toye was now in charge of a three-man rifle squad.

"You'll be a Sargent soon enough". She told him with a tiny smile.

"Yeah, maybe". Toye then asked, "ammo good?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah, got some this morning. Lads are fine too".

"Good". He got up from the steps he was sitting on, "okay, we moving?"

"Soon".

Toye sighed, "sick of this fucking place".

She chuckled lightly.

He set her a hard look.

"Ah – come on, pal". Murphy told him lightly, "you aren't the first person to call this village a dump or a shit-hole".

Toye's hard expression softened a little, "get lost, Murph".

She smiled small, "alright – I'll get Gordy and McClung up".

Everyone was glad when they were told to get up.

For some reason, staying still wreaked havoc on their minds.

Murphy figured they just wanted to get this over with. And she was the same. D-day was finished, but their work was far from over. They didn't have a pause after D-day, it was a night of sleep and then back at it the next morning. Onward they went.

Between Beaumont and Angoville au Plain. There were two Companies of German Paratroopers waiting for their arrival. And since 1st Battalion were in the lead, the Germans attacked them from the rear.

The three Companies from the 506 and HQ, started to head in towards Angoville.

And it was unorganised chaos.

The German Paratroopers weren't the best of troops. The Germans obviously had their best inside Carentan, waiting for them. Easy and Fox had support from a couple of tanks, while Dog moved further down towards Sainte-Come-du-Mont.

They killed a lot of Germans that night. One hundred and fifty.

And they even took prisoners.

The Germans were young and older men. It was an easy fight.

Too easy, Murphy almost felt bad for firing back.

Agnoville itself was a tiny village.

It was a hamlet, not even big enough to be considered a village.

With a few little houses, leading up to a stone church. That's where the aid station was.

Kenneth Moore and Robert Wright were two medics from the 101st, who had bravely held that church as an aid station since the drop. Americans had to withdraw from this village, the two medics stayed in that church, helping soldiers from both sides.

The 506 arrived on the 7th and by the 8th, the village was secured and became Battalion HQ for Sink and his guys.

Now, they were faced with the aftermath.

Dead bodies. The countryside was littered with dead. Germans, cattle, horses, Americans. It was the worst they'd ever seen. And they began to bloat and smell, thanks to the June's sweltering heat. It was proving to be too much for some. You couldn't eat, sleep or think with that smell.

So, Regiment hired French civilians to burn and bury the dead.

"This a better dump, pal?"

"Get lost, Murph".

Murphy smiled a little, Toye was pissed off at her – nothing new there.

She was beginning to see him as a brother now, Guarnere too.

The three of them had bonded a lot since the drop.

Though, Murphy had bonded with Guarnere back in England. Because she was getting him out of trouble or joining in with his devilish plans. Murphy had considered Bloser her best friend in Easy, from the day she sparred with him, Murphy thought Bloser was one of the most genuine people she had ever met. He never did stray away from what he was feeling.

Murphy missed him a lot.

But being out here and always under attack, there wasn't much time to sit and think about someone you missed. Which was probably a good thing for Murphy. She hadn't even thought about her family since the drop, or how they were coping without Noah. Murphy only did mention Noah after Brecourt because she couldn't believe she had lived through that.

It was a quiet night, with the sounds of firing miles from their position around the village.

The dead had soon been cleared, though sleep was still an issue.

And they soon encountered another issue, in the form of hard liquor.

"Fancy a swig?"

Murphy looked over her shoulder from the foxhole. "What is that?"

"Brandy". Liebgott told her with a shrug, "Cognac".

"Come again?" She pulled a tiny frown.

He chuckled, "Welshy found a barrel, pretty famous around here".

"I haven't heard of it". Murphy mumbled.

"Takes the skin right off your throat".

"Why would you 'wanna drink it then?"

Liebgott grinned, "takes the edge off".

Murphy turned away from him, shaking her head. "Piss off, you loony".

He laughed, taking another swig. "Ah – fuck".

Men were so drunk, that they had no idea what they were saying.

They couldn't sit up, they passed-out in dangerous places. And they puked their guts up.

Apparently, Cognac had to be aged for ten to fifteen years. If not, it would burn your throat. Which explained the men's discomfort when it came back up hours later. Calvados was apparently harsher on the throat, one of the men actually had blood in his vomit because the fiery brandy had indeed, skinned his throat.

The Sargent's were losing their minds over this.

Lipton almost lost his hair that night and Guarnere had never screamed so loud.

Only, the guy he was screaming at was giddy from being so drunk.

"You just wait until the morning, kid". Guarnere said, "you just fucking wait".

To be fair, there were only around ten drunk troopers from Easy.

Including Lieutenant Welsh.

Murphy was giving McClung a bit of a hard time, for her standards.

"If I hear another peep out of you, I'll toss you into the fucking sea".

McClung pressed his lips together.

Murphy set him a hard stare, "stay in your foxhole – Gordy, makes sure he doesn't leave".

She set off from their foxhole, making her way down the road.

It was getting quiet now, which was just as well.

The drunk troopers were tucked up in their foxholes, passed-out.

And Murphy started to get rid of the brandy. She would not have another repeat.

While heading outside the village, she spotted Winters, who was dragging Welsh back from the road. Welsh had passed-out on his reserve chute, which he was still carrying around. He was in clear sight of the Germans, who were still lurking around the village.

And now, so was Winters.

Dropping the bottles, Murphy took up her rifle.

Soon, the Germans started to zero in one them.

It was only a squad, but they fired out regardless.

Murphy sprinted over to the two officers and got in front of them.

She started to fire out, though couldn't see them.

But they could see her.

Murphy didn't stop firing out, until Winters eventually grabbed her and pulled them both back.

Welsh was in a ditch, sitting up and looking very confused.

"You almost got us killed, you idiot!" Winters told him though more or less yelled.

"I didn't even – huh?"

Sighing, Murphy sat down in the ditch. "Sir?"

Winters looked at her, angry scowl soon vanishing.

"When the hell are we leaving this dump?"

…

They left the next day and headed into Sainte-Come-du-Mont.

This town was larger than the small village. And it was the last stop before Carentan.

And it was here where a few other guys joined them.

Smokey, Floyd, Blithe and Shifty.

Murphy started to doubt that Bloser was alive.

But she wouldn't allow those feelings to sink in, not yet.

She made sure she had enough ammo and supplies, knowing this journey was going to be tough. Her socks were wet, and mud stuck to her boots like glue. It was the 11th of June and they could have all used a shower and a hot meal. The Normandy weather made them want to shower even more. And being around rotting corpses, well, Murphy felt like her skin was crawling with disease.

Being a trooper and having a slight fear of germs, it wasn't the best mix.

Still, it never stopped her from doing her job.

The fear of germs went far back to her childhood. Watching her baby brothers and sisters die from the common cold, flu or the damp walls – it gave her a small phobia which stuck with her. Murphy was always worried she'd be next, or Noah.

And even out here, whenever someone sniffed or coughed, she was very aware.

It was a flaw but in hindsight, it made her a caring person.

So, she didn't have the protection of washing her hands and reminding others to do the same out here. Murphy had to improvise. And she found a source of whiskey from a house, Murphy figured the alcohol would do a good job until they were granted with showers.

But seeing Murphy come out from the house, with two bottles of whiskey. Proved to be a funny moment for some of the guys.

"You don't drink". Guarnere said, as if reminding her. "What the hell are you doing, Murph?"

"You 'wanna die from a disease?" She asked him evenly.

He raised an eyebrow, "not really".

"Wash your hands".

Guarnere laughed, as did Buck and Martin.

Murphy didn't find it very funny. She was deadly serious, in fact.

So, she stored the two bottles of whiskey in her musette bag.

And when asked why, she told them; "holding it for someone".

"Heard you've got whiskey". Hoobler came over to her.

Murphy crossed her arms. "What of it?"

He shrugged, "got a cut, need to wash my hands".

She took out a bottle and handed it to him.

Hoobler took off the cap and drank it.

Of course, he did.

Murphy tried to snatch it out of his mouth, though he refused to let go.

"Hoob!" She exclaimed.

He was laughing, washing back the liquid from his mouth and into the bottle.

The bottle ended up falling onto the ground. Smashing into pieces.

Murphy looked at the mess and then back at Hoobler, who was laughing.

"Hey – give me the other, huh?"

"You're such an arse". Though, she was laughing too.

The guys loved to mess with Murphy. Especially when it came to her little quirks.

It was just how it was. And Murphy loved to hear them laugh. Even if she was the joke.

The day was going slow, despite the whiskey find.

Most of the men were hanging around in the main square, showing off what they had found.

Perconte had an arm full of watches.

Floyd had found a German poncho.

And Liebgott thought his Nazi flag was pretty great.

The mood was fine because Easy were coming together, after almost a week of being apart.

And her eyes wondered to some of them, who were sitting on the steps in front of a monument.

Murphy did take notice of Blithe, who's eyes seemed a little distant.

Blithe was already a quiet guy in Easy. His best friend was Dukeman in the Company.

And she might have been quiet still, but the guys had brought her out from a shell.

Right now, Blithe didn't look at all with it.

Stress during combat was common. Murphy hadn't seen it much from Easy, however. But she knew there would be a risk of a trooper suffering mentally from such a stressful ordeal.

Each guy had their own way of dealing with stress, the majority liked to work on and do their job. Others liked to find a quiet spot for a few moments and take a breather. Murphy liked to empty out her magazine and re-load, counting each bullet.

But what of Blithe?

Maybe he would never find a coping strategy. Murphy hoped he would.

She soon felt fingers brush against her hand and looked away from Blithe.

"Murphy".

Murphy smiled, "sir".

Winters nodded towards a house, "with me, please?"

He only ever had to ask once.

The two of them walked inside a house, which was small and empty.

Murphy took off her helmet and set it on the table.

"Nice-"

But her words were cut short, when lips were soon pressed against hers.

It took her breath away, Murphy didn't expect that.

With her hands gripping the back of his neck, Winters pressed her up against a wall.

It was a very intense kiss.

Were they dying?

Murphy didn't care if the world was about to blow-up, she just wanted to stay close with him.

Every nerve in her body sparked up like electricity. And her heart was working overtime.

She was either going to have a heart attack, or just melt into the wall.

Winters had his fingers tangled in her hair, which had soon fallen out of the bun.

Blonde locks curled down, passing her shoulders.

He pulled away, letting out a shaky breath.

Murphy opened her eyes, looking at him.

Winters bit down on his lip, "sorry".

"Why?" She whispered, confused.

He huffed out a tiny laugh, "that was – I 'dunno, I just saw you and I had to do that".

Murphy nodded, "right – that's fine". Though still a little stunned.

Smiling, Winters tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You look beautiful. Even covered in mud".

She smiled.

"And I wouldn't worry about hand washing, Corporal Flynn".

Murphy chuckled lightly, "ah – I see".

He grinned, highly amused.

She cleared her throat, "I didn't know you had that in you, sir".

Winters eyes shifted, "well, I suppose it's a day of firsts".

Murphy was a little giddy. "R-right".

Kissing her forehead, Winters took a step back.

She sighed softly, why'd he have to do that now?

He then reached down and picked up the rubber-band from the ground. Getting back up, he handed it Murphy. And taking the hint, Murphy tied up her hair again.

"I love you, Murphy". Winters said to her, "especially when you're covered in mud".

She set him a toothy grin, "yeah – you too, sir".

He smiled, filled with adoration and love. Winters kissed her, softly this time.

And Murphy left, face probably flushed, with a dopey smile on top of that.

Where was she again?

"Murph! Get you ass over here!" Guarnere barked, "where the hell are you?!"

Clearing her throat, Murphy pushed passed the guys and made her way over to him.

"Ah – there you are". He then grinned, "listen, got word that we're heading out this evening".

"Okay". She replied, a tiny crack in her voice.

Guarnere pulled a face, "what is it?"

Murphy shook her head, "eh – nothing. Evening, right. Got it".

He still eyed her up and down, "you're being weird, quit it".

She smiled, with a tiny laugh. "Sorry, pal…my heads in it, don't worry".

"Good". Guarnere clapped her shoulder, "alright, help Joe with the fellas, huh? I need your squad ready to leave at the word go".

Murphy gave him a firm nod, "sure thing, Sarge".

He grinned, "alright, get lost".

When the sun was beginning to set, Easy followed in behind Fox Company and they set off.

They were on their way to Carentan.

Set up to attack the next day, at 0600 hours.

Carentan was important to secure. It was to ensure the armoured forces from Omaha and Utah could link up and head inland. And until they had secured the town, those boys were stuck on the sand. The operation was massive. The entire 101st Airborne were apart of this attack. Each assigned a different part of town to attack from. 2nd Battalion were attacking down a road, the southwest side of Carentan.

But getting there, appeared a problem in itself.

Not only was the terrain terrible to walk on, due to flooded marshlands and mud. They encountered a few hedgerows before crossing the bridge. Where they turned west and ended up on a railroad. From there, the ground became extremely swampy.

But the most trouble came from Fox Company.

Easy were lucky, they had bags of training with doing night marches, problems and patrols.

Fox lacked in that, and it showed that night.

They kept on losing contact with the Company. And from that, they had to stop.

Most guys carried a radio to keep in contact.

George Luz, Rob Bain and a few others had a radio.

Where as Company headquarters had very big radios.

The rest were given small radios, though, they were chunky and pretty big still. The range wasn't as big on the small radios, nothing compared to Company headquarters or Luz's radio, which was strapped on his back, officers usually used those ones when out on objectives or patrols.

And as good as their system was, not even the big radios could find Fox.

Apparently, Fox's officers had "crapped out" on those night problems during training.

Murphy bet they were slapping themselves silly now.

Out of range, Fox were.

No one from Easy were impressed. They could have died; the Germans were waiting for them.

And every time they lost contact with Fox Company, someone would have to go and find them, while the rest sat around, waiting.

All they ever did was waited.

War was weird like that.

If you weren't fighting, you were waiting to fight again.

And if you weren't waiting to fight, you were waiting for someone to tell you what to do next.

"Murph, up front". Buck told her, while they all sat around – waiting.

She got up and followed the direction he was gesturing towards.

Oh, he wanted her up with 1st Platoon.

Murphy never asked why, she just did it.

Asking why back in training, you'd get a slap for that.

You never asked why, you just did it.

It turned out, Winters and Nixon were sick of waiting as well. Welsh had sent out Hoobler and Blithe to find Fox Company this time, and the two officers wanted Murphy to come along. She never asked why, it beat sitting around and doing nothing but hoping the Germans didn't appear and ambush them. So, she followed the two of them towards a tree line.

Murphy was in the lead, staying very quiet.

It was a dense wood. The trees were thin and twisted into each other, they looked like skeletons with bony hands reaching out to grab you. She didn't like this forest.

They were only in there for a few moments, until she heard movement.

Holding up her head, she then pointed to her right.

Winters stepped forward first, Nixon soon after.

Murphy quickly walked over.

"He's dead, Private".

Blithe let out a tiny gasp and sharply turned around.

"Did you find Fox Company?" Winters asked.

He nodded, "yes, sir…I thought he…I thought he had me".

Murphy stepped forward and sure enough, there was a dead German leaning against a tree.

"Fallschirmjager". Nixon mumbled quietly.

Blithe turned back around, facing the German. "Paratrooper?"

"Division thinks there's a regiment of them holding Carentan".

Winters sighed quietly, "well, there's one less to worry about".

Though with a frown, Murphy looked over and smiled at him.

"Yeah". Nixon said, "that's Edelweiss".

She turned back and looked over at Blithe, a white flower had caught his attention. Edelweiss, according to Nixon. And it was neatly placed into the Germans front jacket pocket.

"That only grows in the Alps above the tree line". Nixon continued, "which means he climbed up there to get it. It's supposed to be the mark of a true soldier".

Murphy's heart softened up at that. Nixon was truly a surprising guy. He was well educated and travelled a lot as a kid. But even still, that was a softening fact, especially for Blithe who might have needed to hear something nice for a change.

She walked over to him and placed a hand on her shoulder, "let's head back, pal".

Blinking, he turned around and looked at her. "Okay". He croaked.

Murphy gave him a tiny smile, before looking over at Winters. "Should we head back, sir?"

"Yeah – we'll get Corporal Hoobler". Winters agreed, with the smallest of smiles.

The four of them went their separate ways.

Murphy moved to the side quickly, when a branch tried to grab her jacket.

"Murph?"

"Yup?" She asked, while swatting a mosquito away with her hand.

Blithe rubbed his lips together, thinking of how to word what he was going to say.

Murphy looked back at him and gave his shoulder a nudge.

That was a bad move, he seemed to flinch a little.

"Sorry, Alby". She whispered and then cleared her throat, "everything alright?"

He swallowed and gave a tiny shrug.

Murphy licked her top lip, "well…you know, it's alright". She said, "you're stressed, right? That's fine, Alby. You want some whiskey?"

Blithe pulled a tiny face of disgust, shaking his head.

"How about some chocolate?" Murphy offered, "I haven't eaten mine".

Again, he shook his head.

Biting her lower lip, Murphy faced the front again. "Why don't you just talk to me then, pal?"

Blithe sighed, "I'm stressed".

"Okay". She gave a little nod, "and how're you 'gonna handle that?"

He shook his head slowly, "I don't – I don't know".

"Have you talked to Johnny?"

"No". Blithe said quietly, "just you".

Murphy frowned a little, "don't suffer alone, Alby. There's no shame in struggles".

His lips twitched a little.

"One step at a time, pal". She told him, "let's get across this 'fecking river first".

Blithe smiled more now.

And the two troopers headed out of the tree line and back to Easy.

Murphy felt her heart go out to him, she really did.

She just wanted to help him out. Blithe was a good guy.

But Murphy didn't have time for that.

Martin would handle it.

Murphy had to prepared herself for Carentan.

And whatever shit the Germans tossed at them next.


	12. Chapter 12

If she didn't die today, then she could always fight for another week.

Those were the thoughts Murphy had while she waited.

It was almost 0600 hours, Easy were positioned at the bottom of a T-intersection. It was straight, with a gentle downward slope with shallow ditches on both sides. Winters had stationed, 1st Platoon on the left, 2nd on the right and 3rd in the rear. And on the foot of the hill, at the end of the road, was their entrance into Carentan.

Such was a daunting sight.

Murphy could feel the adrenaline coming back to her.

She gripped onto her rifle tightly, Toye gave her shoulder a light clap.

Murphy didn't feel at all that nervous. Though she was concerned of this road.

The Germans had the advantage of higher ground for the moment. If they were to move up, anything could happen. And Murphy knew she wasn't the only one with this slight worry.

And the worry may have escalated.

God, she might have felt a little nervous now.

Murphy took in a deep breath, which trembled.

Toye squeezed her shoulder.

But no one talked – they waited.

0600 struck.

Winters told Welsh and his Platoon to start moving up.

And as soon as they revealed their heads up towards that slope, a machine-gun fired.

The MG42 ripped open, right down the road.

And everyone got into a ditch, taking cover.

You just wanted to survive.

A few of 1st managed to get into the town, while everyone else took cover.

Murphy's eyes were wide, she was leaning back against the grass verge. What the fuck am I doing here?! She thought, while the machine-gun continued to fire out.

And Strayer was yelling at Winters to get everyone moving.

While Welsh and his six men took this intersection alone.

Murphy wouldn't have thought any less of Winters if he had stayed in that ditch.

Because Jesus Christ, you'd get hit.

But he got out of the ditch, taking off his harness and other equipment so he could run.

The love of her life was standing in the middle of the road, while bullets flew past his head and pinged off his boots. With only his M-1, he started to yell at everyone to get up. And he was getting angry because his good friend was out there, and his orders were to secure this side of town. So, when yelling didn't work, he kicked them, literally, out of the ditch.

And what got Murphy out of that ditch, was thinking Winters was going to get himself killed.

They had to get up.

You were lucky if you didn't get hit.

And they all soon ran up that road, machine-gun firing trying to stop them.

Murphy didn't know how she had survived that first step and she didn't know how Winters had.

But she was already relieved.

Winters was fine, Easy were going to be okay.

It was Welsh who took out that main machine-gun, firing down towards the road.

He ran over towards the building, unclipped his grenade and tossed it inside.

From there, it was running from house to house, clearing out the Germans inside.

The houses and buildings were all around them, covering both sides and the rear.

Inside those houses and buildings were snipers and machine-guns.

There was plenty to do in Carentan.

Murphy was with Toye, the pair of them ran down the street and stopped in front of a house. She took a step to the side, while Toye tossed a grenade in through the window. Then, he kicked the door down. There were two Germans down the stairs, which they quickly took care of. Murphy ran up the stairs and opened a room, where a German was at the window, firing his machine-gun. Before he could spot her, she had already shot him.

Shifty Powers had taken out two snipers. He was Easy's best shot. And the man they called up whenever they needed someone with a good eye. Not only was he an excellent shot but Shifty had this weird sixth sense about it. It was crazy. It was like the man could smell danger.

He was an amazing soldier.

Guys were getting shot at. Men were dying and being carried away by the medics.

Easy had three medics, Gene, Ralph and Edwin Pepping. And currently, the three of them were running around like headless chickens. It didn't seem to matter where the cry of a medic was coming from, they would reach them, even if bullets were hammering their way. The medics were brave and devoted to helping the men from their Company.

True heroes.

The Germans inside those houses were easy to get rid of.

But soon, they had them zeroed in, with mortars and 88's.

Lipton was screaming at everyone to get off the street and find cover.

And when they let those 88's rip, the whole ground was shaking.

You couldn't tell where it was going to drop, so everybody was rushing around.

It was chaos.

And when that first 88 dropped, the ground exploded and blew up.

Everything flew up and smoke filled the air.

You couldn't see if anyone had been hit, until they screamed for a medic.

Murphy saw one guy with no leg.

And she was only a few feet from him.

Jesus, that could have been her!

The smoke still hadn't lifted, Murphy was moving further back.

She bumped into someone.

"Murph!" It was Buck. "Where's Toye?! Get those houses cleared!"

He was standing and Buck grabbed her arm, getting Murphy back onto her feet.

She felt so incredibly small for that moment.

But soon reminded herself for the job at hand.

Murphy had no idea where Toye went, so she linked-up with Boyle.

Together, they cleared a few more houses.

All the while the Germans continued to shell the hell out of them.

Houses and buildings were rattling, threatening to squish them.

"Let's get out!" Boyle grabbed her arm, the pair of them ran outside.

And the building collapsed.

Murphy's knees were shaking a little. Another close encounter.

Was she meant to survive this battle?

Maybe she was meant to die here.

But even knowing she might not make it out of this alive, Murphy knew she couldn't let anyone down. Because she couldn't die knowing she hadn't done her job.

They'd be super pissed off at her.

So, with that in mind, Murphy decided to organise the squad.

She found Carson and McClung coming out of a building.

But where was Toye?

"Oi – over here!"

The two of them ran over to her, keeping low.

When they reached her across the street, Murphy gave them a quick check over.

"How are we for ammo?!"

"Good, Murph!" Carson told her.

"You been flushing those Krauts out?!" Murphy asked.

McClung nodded.

"Alright!"

It was so very loud.

Murphy was sure to lose her voice by the end of this battle.

"Where's Joe?!"

"No idea, Earl!" She replied, "lost him when an 88 landed close by!"

"Hit?!" Carson's eyes widened.

Murphy shook her head, "he has one strike left – that didn't get him!"

"What?!" McClung asked, pulling a face.

She waved it off, "never mind – take the houses to the left!"

With the Germans pulling back, they couldn't risk them retreating.

A few guys had set up their machine-guns in the houses, firing out at the Germans running across the field. Smokey being one of them.

Tipper, who was originally Sobel's map reader. He ended up getting hit badly.

His face was hammered in and his boots were almost on fire.

Liebgott was there with him. And cradled his friend into his chest, while assuring him things would be okay. Murphy wasn't around to see that, though she did hear a few guys calling out for a medic because Tipper was down.

And a causality happened right before her eyes.

Lipton was in the middle of the street, yelling for everyone to move.

And everyone did more – everyone but him.

A mortar went off, Lipton flew up into the air and came crashing down.

Murphy almost dropped everything, while she ran over to him.

He was covered in white chalk from the bricks.

Murphy saw a slice on the side of his face and a patch of blood by his groin.

He was struggling to get up, Murphy grabbed his arm and helped.

"There we go, Sarge". She mumbled softly, "you just calm down now".

And she started to gently move the dust and chalk from his face and jacket.

Soon, Floyd came rushing over to help.

"Hey, buddy". He told him.

Lipton's only concern was his groin. Floyd followed his startled and frightened stare.

He ripped open his trousers, taking a quick look. "You're okay, Lip".

Murphy even sighed in relief.

"Everything's right where it should be".

While Floyd got him to the aid station, Murphy got back onto her feet.

And when the smoke and dust settled, the shelling's stopped.

She then noticed Blithe, huddled in the corner.

Murphy frowned and quickly ran over to him.

He was staring out, with large and frightened eyes.

The weird thing was, he didn't notice her.

Murphy crouched in front of him, "Alby?"

"Murph!" He chocked out, and his eyes moved in every direction.

She leaned in closer, "can you – are you blind?"

Blithe nodded, tears swimming in his eyes.

Murphy took off his helmet, thinking he had been hit.

"I'm not hit". Blithe croaked, with a tiny sniff.

"The how come you can't see, pal?" She asked him softly.

He shook his head, "things just went black".

Sighing quietly, Murphy grabbed his arm. "Come on, let's get you out of here".

The aid station was twenty metres from the rear, in a small courtyard.

Leading Blithe to that aid station seemed to take hours because Murphy was constantly checking behind her, making sure no Germans were around. They were an open target, she couldn't get to get rifle because she was busy with Blithe, who stumbled around a little.

There was one shot.

Murphy wasn't sure if it was a German or a friendly.

It pinged her helmet right off.

She almost fainted.

"Murph?" Blithe questioned quietly.

Stopping, Murphy bent down and picked up her helmet.

"Fine". She whispered, dusting it off and putting it back on. "We're good".

Jesus, that was strike three. She'd be dead soon.

In one piece, she got Blithe to the aid station and he sat on the ground, back pressed up against the wall. Murphy moved away from him, in search of a medic. Truthfully, she had no idea what was going on with Blithe. He couldn't see, that's all she knew and neither of them knew why.

Gene was the first medic Murphy spotted. He had just finished wrapping a bandage around Tipper's head. He was lying back now, staring blankly at the ceiling. Rubbing her lips together, she turned towards the medic.

"Eh – Alby's blind".

"What?" He asked, pulling a face.

Murphy shrugged, "I don't know, he just can't see".

Gene wiped his hands with a towel, she led him to Blithe.

This baffled the medic for a few moments because he didn't have a wound to examine.

"Just sit tight, Blithe". Gene told him, "we'll get you sorted".

Murphy was looking at the wounded men.

Lipton was lying on the bed close to Tipper and Smith.

She was lucky, in the sense that Murphy wasn't in one of those beds. She should have been.

Gene gave her shoulder a squeeze, "Murphy, you alright?"

Nodding, she slowly looked away from the wounded. "Fine – great, I'll pop off now".

Murphy walked out of the aid station, feeling a heavy weight in her legs.

Things were starting to quieten down now.

The Germans had cleared off and had started to move south.

For a counter-attack, probably. Which Easy would be apart of.

Murphy needed a sit down.

But before she could even think about a rest, Winters soon hobbler towards her.

And her heart shattered.

"No". She moaned quietly.

He gave her the smallest of smiles, "Murphy, it's fine".

"It's not". Murphy whispered, gesturing towards his legs. "Why did you get hit?"

Winters almost laughed, "well – bullets, for one".

Running a hand down her face, Murphy sighed.

"Murphy, I'm fine". He told her again, with more certainty this time.

She looked at him, "you sure?"

Winters nodded and brushed his fingers against her hand, "positive".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy took his hand for a moment. "Listen to the medic, sir".

"I will, alright?" He promised her gently, "get a rest. You look like you need one".

Seeing him hurt, was like a punch to the chest.

She wanted to carry the pain for him.

Murphy wished she was there to stop that bullet from ever hitting him.

When Winters left to get his wound looked at, which turned out to be a small flesh wound. A tiny part of the bullet entered his skin, Gene removed it with tweezers and bandaged it up. Murphy was happy that he would be okay but still had a horrible feeling in her stomach.

She sat down, in a semi-quiet place and took out her magazine. She needed to un-load and re-load, the adrenaline was wearing off and she just needed a few minutes of a mundane task.

However, a Hershey's bar soon knocked into the side of her face.

"Shit – sorry".

"You're an arse, Bill".

Grinning still, Guarnere sat down next to her.

They were outside a house, which was half torn-down, due to an 88.

"Eat it". He said, "broads love candy".

Murphy cleared her throat, "alright – you can piss off now".

He laughed, "break my heart, huh?"

Shaking her head, Murphy continued to load up her magazine.

Guarnere picked up the chocolate bar, "okay?"

She nodded.

"You – uh – you shook up?"

Murphy shrugged, "maybe, pal". She said softly.

Guarnere looked towards her hands, "you ain't shaking. You're good".

She smiled a little, "yeah…just needed something from training to help".

"Ah – whatever gets you through this shit, Murph".

Guarnere smoked, Murphy loaded up her rifle.

They sat quietly for a few minutes. And it was nice.

Murphy's strategy helped once again. She placed her rifle across her knees.

She stared out, watching Easy guys walked passed. They seemed relaxed enough.

Some were even laughing and joking around.

Like everything was fine.

Maybe it was, now that they had secured this part of town.

"Think the French 'gals are pretty?"

Eyebrows twitching, she looked at him.

Guarnere shrugged, "I ain't seen them".

Murphy laughed quietly, "why the hell are you asking me?"

He smirked, "cause I knew you'd laugh".

"You're 'fecking soft". She said with a grin, nudging his arm.

"Get lost, Murph". He said, but in "soft" way.

Murphy chuckled quietly.

"Get up". Guarnere said, "Joe's looking for you".

Toye gave his squad a debrief about today's battle.

It was always nice to know that they had done some good.

And the battle did have some stressful moments. But they all managed to remain focused.

What made Murphy's day that little bit better was seeing Blithe re-join his Platoon.

She walked towards them and sat down on a step.

Muck, Penkala, Malarkey and More were there as well.

"Hey, guys". She greeted them quietly. "What's the word?"

"Don't eat the cheese, Murph". Muck said, "it's worse than pickled eggs".

"Worse than fish chowder?" She asked, with a tiny grin.

Malarkey shuddered at the thought, "way to bring that up, Murph".

"No – Alton thinks we're 'gonna be in Berlin by Christmas". Penkala said.

Murphy raised an eyebrow, "well…it's always good to have dreams, pal".

More shook his head, "the way we came into town and took over? You know, it don't seem like the Jerry's got too much fight left in 'em".

"Hey, More". Malarkey said, "don't get hit in the face when Jerry throws in the sponge, alright?"

Murphy smiled at that and looked over her shoulder, Blithe was lying down, staring up at the sky. Well, at least he could see again but he still didn't look with it, not yet.

"You mark my words, Mal. Berlin by Christmas".

A shadow soon loomed over them.

They all looked up.

"Enjoy while it lasts". Speirs said to them, "we'll be moving out soon".

"Out of town, Lieutenant, already?" More asked him.

His eyes turned sharply towards him, "that's right".

And Speirs walked off.

"Don't they know we're just getting settled here?" More called out.

He stopped for a few moments.

Murphy heard Muck take in a deep.

And he exhaled, when Speirs continued to walk.

"Nice, Groucho…". He mumbled.

More frowned, "what?"

"Real smart". Muck continued, "you know, you're taking your life into your own hands". He then tossed a piece of bread towards Malarkey, "ain't that right?"

"I told you". Malarkey responded, "I didn't actually see it".

"What? Speirs shooting those prisoners, or the Sargent in his own Platoon?" Penkala asked.

Murphy suddenly looked up, "what?"

"Sargent?" More muttered.

"What?! I didn't hear that". Muck hissed, sounding excited.

"Wait, wait! Shot one of his own guys?!" Malarkey exclaimed.

"Well, supposedly the guy was drunk and refused to go on patrol. Who knows if it's true…".

"Well, I know a guy". Muck said, throwing another piece of bread at Malarkey.

"Hey!"

"Who said an eyewitness told him that Speirs hosed those prisoners".

"Why? What for?" Blithe asked quickly from the back.

Murphy looked over at Malarkey.

"On D-Day". Muck said, "Speirs comes across this group of Kraut prisoners, digging a hole or some such, under guard and all".

She bit down on her lip. Remembering Malarkey joining them, looking shaky and startled.

"He breaks out a pack of smokes, passes them out". Muck said, "he even gives them a light. Then, all of a sudden, he swings up his Thompson, and he hoses them. I mean, Goddamn! Gives them smokes first?!" He exclaimed, "you see, that's why I don't believe he actually did it".

"Oh, you don't believe it?" Malarkey said, almost sounding sarcastic.

"I heard he didn't do it". Penkala pointed out.

More shook his head, "no, no…it was him alright. But it was more than eight guys, more like twenty".

"Hell of a shot". Muck commented.

"All except one guy, who he left behind".

"Well, all I know from what I heard, he took that last 105 on D-Day practically by himself. Running through MG fire like a maniac". Penkala told the group.

Malarkey nodded, "yeah, I did see that".

"On his own?" More asked, sounding slightly impressed.

"Yeah".

"I don't care if any of that other stuffs true". Penkala said.

"Hey, Albert. What do you think?" Muck asked.

"I don't know". He replied quietly, "'gonna have to take everybody's word for it. I didn't see any of it".

"What about you, Murph?"

"It's all true". Murphy stated evenly.

And she stared out towards her, eyes holding a serious gaze.

Malarkey's eyes widened a little, "what – seriously?!"

Murphy nodded, "it's all true". She whispered. "Every last part of it".

And she got up then, slinging her rifle across her shoulder.

"Do me a favour?" Murphy said, "don't accept a cigarette off him…you never, it might just be your last ever smoke".

She walked a few steps away from them.

"You didn't – you didn't see anything!" Penkala called.

Murphy stopped walking and turned to face them.

She tilted her head to the side, the same serious look on her face.

"Didn't I?"

Holding their stare for a few moments, Murphy slowly turned back around.

"Murph!" Malarkey yelled after her. "Get your fucking ass back here!"

And she grinned, while continuing to walk away from them.

It was always fun messing around with the guys.

Murphy joined her Platoon, they had plans to move out soon.

Apparently, they were to head east and towards higher ground and set up a defensive position.

More Paratroopers.

And these guys would be pissed.

Another Hershey's bar was soon thrown to the side of her face.

"Would you just eat the Goddamn candy, Murph!"

Smiling, Murphy reached down and picked it up.

Guarnere made a gesture, "thank you!"

Laughing lightly, Murphy unwrapped the chocolate and took a bite.

That felt good.

When was the last time she ate?

Murphy didn't have anything to eat that morning, and yesterday she didn't eat.

Because Winters kept her pretty distracted.

While chewing on the chocolate, she looked around for him.

He was talking with Welsh, Moore and Buck.

Winters was leaning on one of his leg, his wound must still be sore.

Murphy wondered what the medic had told him; probably to keep off it.

She just wanted to run over to him and made sure.

And kiss him.

Murphy swallowed the chocolate in her mouth.

There was a time and place to be thinking about that. And right now, wasn't one of those times. Murphy had a job to do. She had to finish this Hershey's bar and then move out with Easy, in search for higher ground.

And better yet.

They all had to survive another day.

And live to fight another week.


	13. Chapter 13

They moved east, in search for higher ground.

The counter attack was going to happen. But it was a matter of when and where.

Some of the men were wondering where they were going.

And others wondered why they always picked Easy.

"Hey, Joe?"

"What?"

"What do you think about Speirs?"

Toye pulled a face, "what?"

Murphy shrugged, "some of the lads are indifferent about the bloke".

"Murph – I don't give a shit".

She grinned, "right".

Sighing, he looked at her. "Is he bothering you?"

Murphy shook her head, "no, Joe…he's just got a spooky vibe, you know?"

"No, I really don't". Toye muttered, looking away from her.

Things were running fine for the first two to three miles.

They didn't undergo any fire and the Germans were no where to be seen.

And then, they ran right into heavy fire.

The Germans had established a base of fire from higher ground, with heavy hedgerows for protection. Good for the Germans. Bad for Easy. And under that heavy fire, they were committed to the right - hand side of the road. 2nd Battalion was on their right flank, with Easy on the right side of the flank.

It was a mess.

It was confusion, trying to get everyone into position.

And some of the troops from Easy were firing into the other Battalion.

Of course, the majority of them fired out towards the enemy.

Germans were hitting them with 88's and mortars.

While Easy were rushing around, trying to find a better position.

Murphy took a few shots, with Toye by her side.

But it didn't seem to make much of a difference.

Eventually, things quietened down, and they dug in for the night, behind hedgerows.

Murphy would sooner eat her own arm than see another fucking hedgerow.

She hated those things.

And it started to rain, the night was ruined.

Not that it was ever great to begin with. But the weather didn't help with the mood.

On a better note, they were re-supplied with water, food and ammunition.

Murphy had never guzzled down water so fast in her life.

And she had more.

"You'll be pissing all night". Guarnere had told her.

"I don't care".

She ate most of the rations too.

Canned rations, usually consisted of meat, in some sort of apple sauce.

Murphy's diet was proving to be horrendous out in the field.

If she wasn't just eating the crackers, she was eating chocolate and chewing on gum.

Though that night, she dug right into the canned meat.

Murphy was starving and low on energy, she needed the fuel.

It didn't matter what it tasted like, if you didn't eat, your mind would melt.

So, by the end of supper. Murphy was well hydrated, and her belly was happy.

And she must have fallen into a light sleep.

Because a memory soon entered her dreams.

 _"Murph, what if something happens?" Bloser whispered._

 _"Then we'll handle it". Murphy said to him, "just like we always do, pally"._

 _He swallowed, "man…my mom, she was real nice in her last letter"._

 _"I miss my 'mam too, Rob". She told him softly, "just try and not think about it"._

 _"Yeah but what if-". He cleared his throat, "what if I don't see her, then what?"_

The next thing, Murphy's eyes snapped opened.

Sitting up, she looked around her, as if Bloser was going to suddenly turn up.

Swallowing, she leaned back against the wet mud.

The Germans were singing in the background.

"Fucking Krauts".

Murphy looked over at Toye. His eyes were closed, though he was awake.

"If they ain't shelling us, they're fucking singing". He sighed, "some kid was screaming".

"What?" She whispered.

Toye opened one eye, "he was having a dream or something. Couldn't calm him down, he's off the line".

Murphy pulled her rifle towards her chest, fingers tapping against the butt-plate.

"What woke you?"

She shook her head, "Krauts singing, pal".

"Yeah, it's annoying". Toye responded gruffly.

"Checked in on the lads?"

"Not yet". He said, "you were out cold, Murph".

The rain gently tapped against their helmets, sounding like bullets.

Murphy turned around and looked over the edge of the foxhole.

Though the thick branches from the hedgerow, she could see the field and the hill, where the Germans were. Though, she couldn't actually see them. They were positioned well.

"We're attacking tomorrow". Toye told her, "soon as it gets light".

"Buck tell you that?" Murphy asked him quietly.

"Yeah and Winters".

Turning back around, she sat back down in the foxhole.

It was a very rushed foxhole, Sobel wouldn't have been impressed.

Then again, they were all rushed foxholes.

Toye stretched his arms above his head, "I'll check in, stay awake".

"Right, Joe".

Murphy leaned back.

It was quiet, despite the singing.

And she thought about Bloser.

He was dead. He had to have to been. Meehan and the other eighteen guys from his plane were gone too. If they were alive, they'd be here by now.

And accepting that hard-hitting fact, was a lot harder than Murphy anticipated.

But she had to.

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy looked down towards her rifle.

He would have done great out here and he'd make everyone proud.

"Murph, you sleeping?"

She looked up, Buck soon got in beside her.

"Joe said he was checking the guys". He whispered, "you get any sleep?"

Murphy nodded, "dozed off for a bit, sir".

"Good". Buck smiled. "Some fight today, huh?"

"Yeah…was intense, sir". Murphy agreed, "we did good, eh?"

"We did". He agreed, "those Jerry's didn't know what hit 'em".

She smiled a little.

"You'd best be proud now". Buck reminded her, "you did good too".

Murphy looked at him briefly, "ah – was alright, sir". She said, facing the front again. "Before we left America, 'mam told me to be smart and not brave".

He nodded a little, "she's got a point, Murph".

"I could do better, sir". She said, "I'll do better".

Buck frowned a little.

"Like – I 'dunno, Carentan was weird. So much happening, right?"

"It was pretty chaotic, yeah". He said, "but…you all handled it well".

Murphy snorted softly, "we were so fast in the battery assault. I think we all thought we were invincible or something".

Buck chuckled quietly, "adrenaline, huh?"

"What a drug". Murphy commented quietly. "It's different with a head on your shoulders, sir".

"Each objective, mission – whatever, it'll never be the same". He said to her, "Murph, you've all trained your asses off. I'm confident you can all handle anything thrown your way".

Murphy was quiet for a few moments, letting that sink in.

"I came up with something, sir".

"What's that?"

Murphy rubbed the side of her nose, "after almost getting flattened by a 'fecking house with Boyle, I figured I might die soon. So, I said, well, if I'm 'gonna die I'd better not let anyone down in the process…caused they'd be pissed at me".

Buck huffed out a quiet laugh.

Murphy smiled, shrugging. "Us Irish, we lost our minds years ago, sir".

"I'm beginning to think that, yeah". He grinned, "if it ain't you, it's Malark, running across a Goddamn field to get a Luger".

She chuckled lightly, "oh, that was something else. Winters was livid, sir".

"I don't doubt it, Murph".

She finished chuckling with a small sigh. "Thanks, sir".

Buck nodded and gave her shoulder a clap, "hang in there, alright? You're doing good, Murph".

Murphy smiled.

God, they were lucky to have guy like Lieutenant Compton around.

When he left, Toye returned shortly after.

Carson and McClung were both fine.

And Murphy told her squad leader to get some sleep.

It was strange, for as long as they had been out on the line. Someone in the hole, always had to be awake.

You just never knew.

And when you saw that your buddy was asleep, you had to keep yourself entertained.

Cleaning your rifle was the biggest time-killer.

And because you had taken it apart and put it back together so much during training, you were never worried about a sudden attack, not when you were so familiar with the weapon.

Murphy was glad she had a close relationship with her rifle.

Which still didn't have a name.

My Rifle; she wasn't creative enough to think of something.

"Murphy".

She sharply looked up from her rifle.

Winters was crouched in front of the foxhole.

Murphy carefully placed her rifle down and slid over towards him.

He smiled, "how're you?"

"Me?" She whispered, "how's your leg?"

"Stop worrying about my leg". He insisted gently, "I came to see how you were doing".

Sighing softly, Murphy nodded. "I'm fine".

"Good". Winters leaned towards her and placed a hand on the side of her face.

Murphy's eyes closed for a moment.

"You know the plan for tomorrow?" He mumbled gently.

Her eyes opened again. "Attacking at first light, right?"

He nodded, "we're fixing bayonets".

Murphy's insides squirmed.

No one wanted to hear that.

"They might come close". Winters warned her softly, "don't worry too much".

She shook her head, "I'm not worried, sir".

"I know, was only checking".

Smiling, Murphy placed her hand onto his.

"I love you". He mouthed to her.

Her eyes softened, "love you". Murphy mouthed back.

Winters smiled again, "everything will be fine tomorrow".

"I know, sir".

"Get some sleep, alright?"

His hand left her face, while he got back onto his feet.

"Goodnight, sir". Murphy uttered softly.

"See you tomorrow".

And all felt right in the world again.

However, things change quickly in combat.

While Murphy was sitting there, she heard a strange noise coming from the left.

Eyebrows pulling together, she gave Toye a nudge.

He opened his eyes, "what?"

"I hear something, Joe".

Toye couldn't hear anything and figured she was nervous. But even still, he sent her to go and check it out, because Murphy would only sit and wonder and in turn, annoy him. So, Murphy left the foxhole, rifle slung across her shoulder.

"Hey – don't be long". Toye warned her.

Murphy nodded, "back soon, pal".

Keeping low and quiet, Murphy walked down the line.

Most of the guys were asleep or talking quietly with their foxhole buddy.

But they never noticed Murphy, which was nothing new.

Behind them, were railroads. And the flooded area. Murphy was careful not to get too close.

She did realise something while on her walk. She never did hear a noise. Murphy figured she must have just imagined something because she was sick of sitting down and not doing anything.

Murphy had reached the left flank.

She had come too far on her little walk, which turned into a mile-stretch.

Well, at least everything was fine across the line.

It was quiet here. Eerie even. Murphy felt a flicker of fear hit her stomach.

She turned to the side, making sure a German wasn't watching her.

Murphy would have shot dust if she thought it was watching her.

However, she had been facing the wrong way.

Because while she faced the path leading towards the railroad, hands grabbed her.

The rifle dropped from her hands, that was her first error.

The second came from the shock of having this person grab her, unexpectedly.

And the third, he was twice her size.

Murphy kicked his knee, he hunched and then she elbowed him in the stomach.

His hand covered her mouth, she bit down on it hard.

But he didn't let go.

And soon, Murphy was pushed onto the ground.

Quickly, she turned onto her back. Leaves and mud sticking to her jacket.

She'd never forget the smell.

Cognac.

That brandy. The same brandy which got ten troopers drunk.

It made her feel sick.

He was on top of her now, as quickly as a blink.

Murphy didn't have much time to react, before she received hard blows to the face.

The hits on the side of her face were hard, and she ended up biting down on her tongue at the same time, which caused her mouth to fill with blood. But then, he punched her nose. She heard a horrible crack and felt blood trickle down. This guy was beating the shit out of her.

And Murphy couldn't stop it.

"Fucking Kraut!"

"What the hell is going on?!"

"It's a Kraut!"

He continued to punch her, a couple more blows to the eye.

Murphy, not knowing how, grabbed his wrists.

"Not a…not a Kraut". She whispered, voice shaking.

The man's eyes widened. "Oh, shit".

He quickly fell back onto the ground, shocked that he had just beat her up.

Murphy, lying there, figured it could have been worse.

But her entire face hurt, it was going to swell.

She slowly sat herself up, feeling dizzy and achy.

"Are you okay?" The other guy, who had turned up asked.

Murphy pressed her jacket sleeve towards her nose, "no idea. Who fucked me about?"

"Uh – just a guy".

"A name". Murphy muttered, "give me a name".

He sighed, looking over at his drunk friend. "Haney".

"What's your name?"

"Peterson". He said quietly, "we're Fox".

Murphy gave her head a tiny shake.

She could barely see; her vision was blurry thanks to the knock on the temple.

God, she could have easily been knocked out.

"Do you need a medic?" Peterson asked her.

He was nervous, probably hoping they wouldn't get into any trouble.

Murphy felt a little bad for Haney. He was drunk, that was enough to get him into trouble.

And he had beat the shit out of her.

Murphy would feel worried too, her friends were going to hunt this guy down.

She couldn't even imagine what Winters would do.

And it wasn't like she could hide it; the evidence was written across her face.

"Alright". She mumbled, "I'll tell them I couldn't see his face".

Paterson's shoulders dropped, "thank you".

Murphy slowly staggered onto her feet, with a grunt. "Yeah – you better be".

She then turned to Haney, who was near tears.

"Tell your friend to sober up. We're attacking tomorrow".

Peterson nodded quickly, "I will".

She felt like an idiot.

Murphy didn't move for over three minutes, scared to see Toye's face.

He was going to flip his shit.

Sighing, she took away the pressure from her nose.

Maybe she should see a medic.

With that in mind, Murphy turned around and walked down the line.

For one-mile, she thought of what to say to Toye.

Murphy didn't know why she was so nervous to explain this to him.

Toye was a good guy but by God, he was scary at times.

The good thing, when Murphy slid in next to him, Toye didn't notice anything at first because it was dark. But the rain had stopped ten-minutes ago, and the moon came out. Her cover was exposed and Toye simply stared at her, rage building up.

"I'll only ask you once". He said, voice dangerously low.

Murphy swallowed thickly.

"Who did it?"

She looked away from him, staring at her rifle.

Toye closed his eyes and took in a breath – probably trying to calm himself down.

"Didn't see his face". Murphy responded, surprisingly evenly. "Too dark".

Opening his eyes again, Toye grabbed the side of her face and turned it towards him.

It didn't hurt, he was very gentle.

He looked at every cut and the bruises forming under her eyes and cheek.

"Bad?" Murphy asked, though could hear a tiny lisp coming from her voice.

She bit down on her tongue. Murphy could have slapped herself. That was a stupid idea.

Toye let go of her face, hands clenching into fists. "You tell me".

"Calm down-"

"I'm calm". He spat.

Murphy gently rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry, Joe".

He pulled a face, looking at her again.

"I'm sorry". She repeated, more quietly this time.

Toye's face fell, into a softer expression. "No – come on, don't do that".

Murphy's eyes burned, tears were filling them.

"Murph". He whispered, "stop, come on".

She took in a shaky breath and rubbed her forehead again.

Murphy felt like an idiot. It was embarrassing and it felt degrading.

No one liked getting beat-up, but you'd hate getting jumped in the night.

God, getting jumped, you had no control.

Toye carefully placed his hand on her shoulder, "come on now, Murph. You're alright".

Closing her eyes, she felt a tear trickle down her face.

Yeah, she was fine now.

Toye was by her side and Murphy wasn't in danger anymore.

But the shock was horrible. Her hands were shaking, and her body was trembling.

The pair of them sat quietly, Toye just wanted her to compose herself.

And Murphy did. Because training kicked in.

Wiping that lone tear from her bruised cheek, Murphy hissed.

"That arse".

Toye sighed, allowing himself to relax again.

She was going to be fine.

Going from zero to one hundred, and back to zero again.

Like a light switch.

Murphy was glad they had prepared them for that in training.

She'd have been in a worse state if not.

"Want me to kill him?"

She snorted softly, shaking her head.

"You sure?" Toye asked again, "cause I fucking will, Murph".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy gave him a sideways glance. "I know you would, Joe". She mumbled quietly, "but I'm alright now. He was drunk, thought I was a Kraut".

"I'm getting Winters-"

"don't you 'fecking – why?!" She hissed, quickly grabbing his arm.

Toye looked at her, "Murph, you got the crap kicked out of you. He'll need to know".

"No, come on". Murphy almost pleaded, "you don't have to get Winters".

"He's 'gonna find out tomorrow anyway".

Ah, shit; Murphy thought. So he will.

She let go of his arm. If Winters saw the state of her face in the morning, that might distract him.

Where as if he saw her face now, at least he'd have a warning.

Murphy nodded, "okay".

When Toye left, she felt the nerves kick in again.

Oh boy, this was going to be interesting.

Toye and Winters came back towards the foxhole in a matter of minutes.

She could feel him staring at him.

"Give us a moment, Joe". He told the Corporal quietly.

"Yes, sir".

Winters stared at her, she was looking away.

Every nerve in his body wanted him to go off and find this guy.

But then his head told him to stay put and be with Murphy.

Eventually, Winters got in next to her.

Murphy took in a quiet breath, body tense.

He frowned at that, not liking the fact that she was tense around him.

Winters didn't like the bruises, the dried blood or the swelling.

But what he hated the most was not being there to stop it.

And that look in her eyes, the tiny amount of fear left.

"Come here, sweetheart". Winters whispered, opening his arms up.

Swallowing, Murphy pressed her body close to him.

His arms were soon wrapped around her and her head lay perfectly on his chest.

Murphy placed her hands above his heart, "I'm sorry".

Winters shook his head, "don't say that to me, Murphy".

God, he wanted to kill this guy. Murphy didn't sound broken, but her voice shook a little. And Winters would hurt anyone, who made the love of his life sound even the slightest bit scared.

That's why killing Germans was so easy for them.

Not only were they going to kill you, but they'd try and kill your friends.

Or the person you loved the most in this world.

Only, the guy who beat up Murphy wasn't a German.

It was Haney from Fox Company.

"He was drunk". She told him, "thought I was a German".

Winters had asked what happened.

"I didn't see his face".

But she did. Because his face was imprinted in her mind and playing out in front of her, like a projector from a movie theatre. And Murphy's eyes were glazing over again, hands trembling slightly.

Winters took her hand, "if you did know, you could tell me, Murphy".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy shook her head. "Didn't see it, sir".

He kissed the top of her knuckles softly.

Pulling back a little, she looked at him. "Don't stay mad, alright?"

Winters eyes softened lovingly into hers, "however you 'wanna deal with this, I'll stay right by you. Don't worry about how I'll react, Murphy".

Nodding, Murphy placed her hand on the back of his neck, bringing their faces closer.

"This is going to hurt".

Winters smiled small, though eyebrows drew in together and created a frown.

Murphy's lips brushed up against his gently.

And he kissed her back, keeping in mind that her bottom lip had a cut.

It did hurt.

But Murphy continued to kiss him anyway.

Little did she know.

While she was busy kissing Winters, Toye had grabbed Guarnere.

When he told her about Murphy, Wild Bill appeared.

And the two of them marched over to Fox Company.

They were shouting, demanding which; "stupid mick beat up Corporal Flynn?!"

It didn't take them long to find Haney. Because he meekly raised his hand.

Peterson looked on, worried.

Guarnere threatened to shoot him.

Toye started to punch Haney, blow after blow to the face.

Wild Bill got a few punches in as well.

And the pair of them left, while Haney covered his face, shaking.

They did that for Murphy and for themselves.

There was no way they were letting that slide.

And when they got back to the foxhole, Toye informed Winters that it was taken care of.

"That idiot was as drunk as a skunk". Guarnere muttered.

Giving her shoulder a squeeze, Winters left the foxhole. "Who was it?"

"Haney, Fox Company". Toye responded.

"Goddamn idiot". Guarnere said, "messed with the wrong fucking Company".

Well, at least Haney wouldn't be doing that again.

"Let's forget it now". Murphy told the three of them quietly, "we've got an attack tomorrow".

Things were forgotten quickly in combat.

You forgot about the Germans you killed.

And if you lost a friend, he was pushed to the back of your mind for those moments on the line.

Willing to let go of what happened tonight, would be easy for Murphy.

Because they had all been through worse.

Haney from Fox Company was stupid and harmless most of the time.

And he wasn't about to break their focus.


	14. Chapter 14

"What the fuck happened to your face?"

Murphy was popular the next morning.

Luckily, Toye replied to their questions shortly.

"Fighting – now, get lost".

They had gotten up early the next day, after little to no sleep.

The counter-attack was set for 0530 hours.

The Sargent's had been briefed on what the plan of action was, and they briefed their guys after.

They had to get as close as possible. And the only way to do that was by going under the hedgerows. If you went over them, you'd get your head blown off. So, the majority planned to go under and fire out from the front of the hedgerows. Because the Germans had the best position, they were hidden well within their side.

Fire and movement. That was the tactic they were going for today.

If they could get under those hedgerows.

It was going to be a hedgerow to hedgerow battle.

She also learned that morning, that Floyd had been stabbed by Smithy.

Apparently, Floyd decided to wear that German poncho to keep him dry.

And while waking Smithy for his watch, the poor guy got the shock of his life.

Smithy stabbed Floyd with his bayonet.

Floyd would be okay, though perhaps a little pissed at Smithy.

Seemed like Murphy wasn't the only one with a story tell.

Because Murphy's face was pretty colourful that morning, she stuck a good amount of grease and the likes on her face.

She looked terrible.

Still, at least the war paint covered the red marks and blue bruises.

Now she wouldn't stand out, and things could go back to normal.

McClung was fixing his bayonet on his rifle, while Carson was having that last smoke.

Murphy was sitting on the edge of their foxhole, Toye had recently left after briefing them.

It was fairly quiet, considering what was about to happen.

In moments before an attack, you did what you had to do to prepare yourself.

Checking your rifle, ammo counts, having that last smoke.

Each guy had their own way of dealing with things.

And it was up to them to mentally prepare themselves for a battle.

Murphy put the mirror to the side.

"Better?"

McClung looked up from his bayonet and nodded, "yeah, fine".

"Good". She reached down and picked up her rifle.

"Mortar!"

 **Boom!**

Murphy dove right into that foxhole.

The mortar landed behind them, trees and the mud began to shake.

When she lifted her head a little, the earth was wobbling from side to side.

It seemed the Germans wanted to attack them first.

They didn't even get the chance to eat breakfast.

Murphy grabbed her rifle again and started to move out from the foxhole.

"We need to get under the hedgerows!" She told Carson and McClung.

They were insane. You'd soon sit there and wait for it to blow over. But they had to keep going forward and fire out from a better position. The Germans were hard to spot, despite the hedgerows having tiny gaps between the thick branches, which was just wide enough to stick your rifle out from.

While the Sargent's and the Officers were running up and down the line, telling everyone to start shooting back, most of the movement team began to make their way under or over the hedgerows. These things were ten-feet high, you'd be an open target. But some of the guys couldn't get under, they had no choice but to climb over.

Once you were in front of the hedgerow, you were in a small ditch.

Murphy, McClung and Carson were now in that ditch.

The Germans were hammering Easy with mortars, their rifles and MG42's.

And they were fighting back.

Winters was running up and down, telling the Sargent's to get their men in order.

Guarnere was getting the mortar squads into position for fire.

And Toye had to climb over the hedgerow to reach his squad.

Out on the front, you were at great risk of getting hit, which was obvious.

But you could spot those Germans, the ones who were sneaky enough to reveal their cover.

Some of them popped out of nowhere, surprising troops with their machine-guns.

Those were the sneaky bastards you had to watch out for.

Murphy spotted a ditch a few feet in front of them.

She was sure to get there.

"I'll head up!" Murphy told Toye, gesturing towards the other ditch.

He nodded, "keep low!"

It was like being back at Brecourt. Almost.

Murphy moved towards that ditch on her belly, while bullets, grenades and mortars throw over her. And she reached the ditch in twenty-seconds.

Once inside, Murphy reached the edge and started to fire out, not knowing what she was hitting.

It was a better position for her, she could see better from here.

The firing was intense, probably the worst they had encountered.

This intense fire caused Fox Company to pull back, without permission.

And now, this exposed Easy's left flank and Dog's right.

They were surrounded by Germans.

However, German tanks soon started to roll in, firing out 88's.

That first blast was a moment Murphy would never forget.

Out there alone in her ditch, she could have sworn that tank was going to aim straight for her.

So, she took cover and hoped they didn't see her.

The tank aimed straight for the Dog Company.

They were forced to pull-back.

Easy Company were now alone on the front line, with nobody on their left or right flank.

Everything was smoke again, Murphy couldn't see a thing for a few minutes.

When she looked back up, the tanks were beginning to hammer into their line.

"Get back!" Toye called, "Murph! Get back!"

She didn't have time to crawl on her belly this time, Murphy had to get the hell back.

Getting up from that ditch, an 88 was soon fired out.

She fell onto the ground because the earth was shaking so badly.

Surely, that was her last strike?

Apparently not because Toye rushed over to grab her.

"You ass – come on!"

Now on her feet, she ran back to their original cover and fired out once again.

It didn't even cross her mind how stupid that move was.

Perhaps later, Toye would chew her ear off.

But for that moment, tanks were their main issue.

They didn't have anything to fight them off with.

Except a bazooka. Twice the size of a mortar but lighter.

And while a German tank threatened to break through a hedgerow to their left, where Fox Company originally were, Welsh and McGrath ran right into the open field with the bazooka. They were going to stop that tank.

Murphy jumping into another ditch, didn't seem much of a risk anymore.

Those two were insane.

But they had a job to do, that tank couldn't break that hedgerow.

And they hit that bazooka round right through the tanks unarmoured belly.

They raced back to the line once the tank was destroyed.

Good, that was one down.

Apparently, Battalion had pulled Fox and Dog Companies together and pushed them forward about one hundred and fifty yards, closing the gap on the left flank. But it still left Easy isolated. They had no idea this was happening because the Germans main focus for the time being, were them.

At some point, Toye pushed the squad to another position.

While running there, Murphy ended falling into a foxhole.

She wasn't looking down, always looking everywhere else.

And while she was getting up, ready to join her squad again, Murphy soon noticed Blithe. He was screaming and covering his ears, while tears ran down his face. She had never seen such terror on someone's face before, not even Noah's when their dad would terrorize them in their youth.

Murphy quickly moved over to them, "Alby!" She called out, "come on, get up!"

Blithe was gone, lost in fear.

She did try and break him out of it. Murphy stayed crouched in front of him, calling out his name and trying not to yell too loud. Blithe was having none of it. She couldn't snap him out of this intense and gripping fear.

However, Winters managed.

He placed a hand on his shoulder, "get on your feet soldier, come on".

It must have been his voice. Murphy didn't know but Blithe soon opened his eyes.

And like magic, Blithe got up and walked towards the edge of the foxhole.

Winters was standing on the top, firing out. "Fire your weapon, Blithe! Hit those Goddamn Germans! Rip it at them, Blithe!"

Murphy's lips twitched; God, what a guy.

She stuck with the two of them for a good ten-minutes.

Winters was the first to leave, once he made sure Blithe was still firing out.

Murphy decided to stick with him for the time being.

Until she helped Blithe find his squad. And next, she had to find Toye.

He wasn't very impressed.

"Where the hell have you been?!"

Murphy nodded behind her, "fell down a hole!"

"Fucking Christ, Goofy!"

That was a new one.

A new racket soon reached their ears. A clanking and loud sound.

"Sherman's!"

By mid-afternoon, the 2nd Armoured division pulled up in their tanks.

Finally, they were getting help.

And help was such a wonderful sight.

Murphy and Toye grabbed a ditch and watched the event unfold.

The tanks poured into the Germans with their 50-calber machine-guns. And then started hammering their hedgerows. While their infantry soldiers marched along-side the tanks.

Murphy was happy to see those hedgerows go.

Those bloody hedgerows.

The 13th of June marked the tightest spot Easy had been in thus far.

They held their position when the other Companies fled, and it truly was a day to feel proud.

Murphy felt proud of her friends and Blithe especially, for overcoming fear and doing his job.

She fell on her back and closed her eyes.

Jesus Christ, what a day.

…

It was back into Carentan for them.

They were given some glorious time off.

Easy were billeted into stables, not nice ones like back in Aldbourne but it was a roof and a floor, it would do. They used the straw and made beds, blankets went on top.

They didn't have much drama coming up the road, but Bull did think he got hit. A machine-gun opened fire, the bullet hit his canteen, Bull thought it was blood.

"Damn! I'm hit!"

He took off his harness and his musette bag, that's when he felt the moisture running down his back and swore it was blood. Thankfully, it was water. But that would have been terrible for Easy, Bull was one of their best soldiers. Made of tough stuff that man, a proper G.I. And on top of that, he was a great guy, easy to get along with. Everyone liked Bull.

The drama was forgotten about, guys started to loot the houses.

Murphy was displeased to see more Cognac and Calvados.

That bloody brandy.

But they deserved a hard drink, after all the shit they had been through.

Murphy even had a taste.

"Jesus on a bike!"

"Yeah". Guarnere laughed, "hey – that was some hit, Murph".

Shaking her head, she passed the bottle back to him.

The French weren't around to stop them from looting. They were hiding in the cellars.

So, looting was never an issue. Murphy didn't do much looting, she only searched the houses for food. Everyone needed more food, especially if they were drinking that stuff. There wasn't much success in finding any food, her and Carson only came back with a few potatoes and some cabbages for their first time around.

However, Shifty and McClung hit the jack-pot.

Dried meat, olives and bread.

They seemed to have found a secret stash.

It was a king's supper.

And Toye finished off the meal with a song.

"I'll be seeing you".

God, that was his all-time favourite song to sing. But the others joined in.

Murphy was content in watching them. They were in a merry state. Half-cut and happy.

They had also grown so much in confidence since dropping into Normandy.

During training, the Germans felt like you were about to face someone super-human.

But after seeing the enemy face-to-face, they weren't at all.

They were just human's, just guys fighting a war like the rest of them.

Easy felt like they could take over the whole world.

And you bet they could.

But for that moment, it was like being back in Toccoa with these guys again.

One by one, they started to fall asleep on the straw.

Either too drunk, or too exhausted.

Murphy watched them all fall asleep, smiling softly at them.

She didn't have to stay up, she just wanted to make sure they slept first.

But her eyes caught sight of the only hotel in town.

Up in the top window, a tiny flicker of candle-light was on.

Murphy quietly got up from her bed and made her way outside.

The hotel itself wasn't big and it wasn't pretty.

The door didn't even close, it had come off the hinges.

Murphy walked up the stairs, this hotel only had one flight of stairs. The wallpaper was tearing off the wall, exposing red brick underneath. The Germans had already looted this place. The pictures were no longer hanging up, all the vases and valuables had gone.

Those jammy arses.

She passed a few rooms, none of them had doors.

Welsh was snoring on the floor, a bottle of Cognac by his head.

Buck was in the room next to him, sleeping on a mattress.

And the room beside Buck, the door was closed.

Murphy grabbed the handle, twisted it and opened the door.

Winters was standing by the window, shirtless.

His jacket and shirt were hanging from the back of a chair, drying off from the rain.

God, the sight took her breath away.

He was perfect standing there, moonlight shining onto him.

Murphy closed the door, he turned around.

Within seconds, she had her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into the most passionate and fierce kiss ever – more than the last one. Winters had his hands gripping her waist, the pair of them fell back onto the bed.

He was on top of her.

Murphy gave his hair a tug, pulling him even closer.

Winters ran his hand up her body, fingers lightly trailing her neck.

She closed her eyes, enjoying that feeling.

Pulling away from her lips, he soon moved her blonde locks from her eyes.

"I love you, Murphy".

She opened her eyes, staring back at him. "I love you".

Biting her lower lip, Murphy pushed him off her and she got onto her feet.

Frowning a little, Winters took a step back from her. What's she 'gonna do now? He wondered.

There was a tiny and shy smile on her face, while Murphy took off her jacket and reached for the buttons on her shirt.

Swallowing, Winters watched her quietly.

The clothes dropped to the ground, she was standing, topless now.

Murphy's lips turned up into this remarkable smile.

He took a tiny step forward, eyes still on hers.

"Is this – is it inappropriate?"

She wasn't embarrassed. But her cheeks were flushed.

Winters tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

He shook his head, "no". Winters uttered quietly, voice cracking.

Murphy frowned and placed a hand on the side of his face.

"You look beautiful beyond words, Murphy".

He took in a quiet breath.

"I swear I couldn't love you more than I do right now, but I know I will tomorrow".

Murphy wrapped her arms back around his neck.

He took hold of her waist, "okay?" He whispered.

She smiled a little, tugging the back of his hair. "Positive".

Murphy didn't know how to explain it.

Except that, the moment was magical and delightful.

Being that close to someone you love, was the closest thing to heaven you'd get on this earth.

She could have cried; she was so happy.

Murphy slept in his arms that night.

Her head was on his chest, with one hand one his arm, which was wrapped around her.

Waking up the next morning in his arms, was just as good as falling asleep in them.

Winters pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

Murphy smiled into his chest.

He chuckled, "morning, Murphy".

"Morning". She mumbled softly.

"Enjoy your night?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah…spent it with a certain red-head".

Winters smiled, "oh? Have a good time?"

"It was brilliant, yeah".

Murphy sat up and looked at him, "oh, there you are!"

Winters laughed quietly, "yeah, what a surprise, huh?"

She leaned in and kissed him softly.

Winters winced when she pulled away.

Murphy soon frowned, "what?"

He sighed, "my leg".

She turned her head towards his leg and moved towards it.

The sheet fell off.

They were still naked.

Jesus Christ.

Winters smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

Clearing her throat, Murphy lifted the sheet and looked at his leg. "You'll need a medic".

"Yeah…it's pretty stiff".

She rubbed her lips together and drove all those thoughts from her head.

Winters sat there, perhaps looking a little too proud of himself.

"What time is it?"

He checked his watch, "0630".

Murphy sighed, "the lads will be up soon".

The smile soon fell from his lips.

"Never said it would be easy". She told him softly, turning to look at him. "But it's worth every second".

Winters smiled again, "I'll get a medic".

"Good, sir". Murphy gave him a toothy grin and got down from the bed.

She began to collect her clothes, which were scattered across the floor.

At the same time, Murphy neatly placed Winters clothes on the bed beside him.

"Can't see a medic naked, sir".

He chuckled, "no, that would be inappropriate".

Murphy smiled, while she started to get dressed.

Winters joined her, though did wince a couple of times during the process.

She felt terrible that he was in pain.

"Did I make it worse?"

Winters shook her head, "no, no you didn't make it worse".

Murphy bit down on her bottom lip, "guess I'll try hard next time".

He huffed softly, "is that so, Corporal Flynn?"

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck.

She leaned into him, "until next time, sir".

Winters exhaled shakily, closing his eyes.

Murphy smiled a little and kissed him.

He grabbed a hold of her waist, "nope".

"What?" She mumbled.

"This has to be next time".

Murphy smiled, while biting down on her lip.

"Yeah, alright". She replied evenly.

Murphy made her way outside of the hotel at eight.

What a morning!

Her hair had been brushed and was placed into a neat bun.

And she was lucky, most of Easy were just starting to wake up.

"Morning, Murph". Guarnere greeted, "good night, huh?"

Smiling, she walked into the stable. "Yeah, great".

"Hungry?" Malarkey asked, offering her some bread and meat.

"Starving".

God, she could have eaten the whole loaf!

Winters had to take it easy for a few days, allowing his leg to rest. He was given sulphur tablets and the medic changed his bandage once it was cleaned. So, Welsh was in-charge for now.

Murphy decided to check in on Blithe that same day.

She asked him about what had caused his blindness.

"Doc called it hysterical blindness". He explained to her quietly, "went away quick".

Murphy nodded, "and you're better?"

"Yeah, much".

The two of them were walking down the street, searching for food.

It wasn't a quiet street.

Some of the guys had started drinking that morning.

It was almost five in the evening. That's some heavy duty.

"Thanks for finding me, Murph". Blithe said to her softly.

Murphy shook her head, "smoke cleared, and I saw you. No need for thanks".

He smiled a little, "wanna try that house?"

"Sure".

The thing about these houses, they had taken quite a hit during the battle to secure the town.

Most were half torn-down, while some were on their way.

So, when Murphy opened the door and stepped inside the house. The floor above shook, and white chalk fell onto her jacket. She looked up and Blithe stepped in behind her. Unfortunately, the door closed behind them and it just disturbed the house even more.

Murphy reached over, pulled open the door and shoved Blithe outside.

And then, the floor above started to fall apart.

Murphy curled up into a ball, covering her head. Bits of wood, brick and even a pipe fell around her. She could feel sharp debris cutting into her jacket and slice the skin on her back. Murphy figured as long as her head was protected, then she'd be okay. And she was the idiot that day, for not wearing her helmet.

Guarnere was going to give her hell for this.

When the rattling stopped, Murphy stayed completely still.

Blithe was breathing heavily, staring at her and the empty ceiling above her.

A piano, of all things, was hanging from the edge.

Taking in a deep breath, he quickly reached inside the house and grabbed her.

Murphy and Blithe fell back outside, the piano soon crashed onto the ground.

 **Clang!**

Both of them sat on the ground, staring wide-eyed at the house.

Murphy blinked, looking at him.

"Thanks". She breathed out.

Blithe nodded, "you too".

Murphy pulled a face of discomfort, "backs done in".

He moved behind her and carefully lifted her jacket and shirt.

Sure enough, she had some pretty deep cuts there.

"You're 'gonna need a medic".

Murphy sighed, "they're 'gonna 'fecking kill me".

They got back inside the stables, Blithe went off to grab a medic.

Guarnere called her a, "stupid mick!"

With Toye ran a hand down his face, "no helmet, Murph?!"

The good news, Murphy's cuts were okay.

They didn't need stitched.

Her whiskey came in handy that day. Gene used it to clean her wounds.

"I told you's, it helps keep the germs away".

Murphy said all this while wincing in pain, while the liquor was poured into her flesh.

"Sure look smug for someone in pain". Hoobler teased.

"Get lost, Hoob".

"Hanging in there, Murph?" Buck asked, with a broad grin.

"It's fine". She mumbled, though sooner flinched. "Jesus".

"Sorry, Flynn". Gene said softly, "I'm almost done".

"Think she'll get a purple heart?"

"Don't' think a house is classed as an enemy, Skip". Malarkey smirked.

Gene finished cleaning her wounds and started placing a gauze on top of them.

"Try and keep them dry". He told her, "we'll change them in a couple of days".

Murphy nodded, pulling down her shirt and jacket. "Thanks, Gene".

Though alarming when they first found it.

They mostly found it funny now, it was like something straight out of a movie.

And Murphy could have gotten hit by many bullets, but no, a house almost squashed her.

When Murphy wasn't the butt-end of a joke, she was with Winters.

Because he was resting, she'd lie down on her stomach next to him.

He'd tell her stories of his childhood, and his little sister Ann, who was ages with Elaine.

And then they'd talk about the Barnes.

"Think we'll make it back to England?"

Winters was quiet for a few moments, fingers stilling in her hair. "We will". He said, resuming playing with her hair. Which he found that Murphy loved. Whenever he tried to move his hand, Murphy would take his hand and place it back on her head.

"It's crazy". She whispered, "it's been, what? Ten days since the drop?"

"It has, yeah".

"Doesn't feel like it".

"Aldbourne seems like a lifetime ago".

Murphy snorted, "how long does that make Toccoa?"

Winters huffed softly, "way before our time, Murphy".

"They kept us on the line for nine days almost". She mumbled, "we must be good".

"We are". He replied.

Murphy kissed his arm, which was lying across his chest.

He smiled, "I told my parents about you".

"You did?"

Winters nodded, "they wrote back, they want to meet you".

Murphy lifted her head and looked at him, "must be serious, eh?"

He chuckled quietly, "I think we are pretty serious…don't you?"

She nodded, "of course, sir".

Winters sighed threw his nose.

"Right – sorry, it's just 'gonna take some time". Murphy grinned, "I've been calling you sir for a while now…what if I slip up in front of the rest?"

"Good point". Winters said, "however, I don't think you will".

Clearing her throat, Murphy gave him tiny nod. "I think we're serious…Dick".

He smiled and sat up, softly kissing her lips. "Much better".

She wrapped her arms around his neck, "I haven't written to my 'mam. I'm a horrible daughter".

"You've been busy, sweetheart". He pointed out, "Toye keeps you on your toes".

"He does". She agreed, "and Bill, they're always on my case".

"That's because they see you as family". Winters said, "like two brothers, huh?"

Murphy smiled a little, "suppose you're right".

"How's your back?"

"Happened two day's ago, put it behind me".

Winters chuckled, "when Welsh told me, he was laughing. I almost throttled the man".

Murphy smiled and pushed his hair back.

"I thought you'd be seriously injured". He went on, "turns out, not even a house can break Corporal Flynn".

She rested her hand on the back of his neck again.

"I knew promoting you was the right idea". Winters said, "you're very level headed".

"Not as level-headed as others". Murphy kissed the tip of his nose, "like a certain red-head. Who never ceases to amaze me".

He was quiet for a few moments, "yeah…Malarkey is a good-"

"hey!" Murphy grinned, giving his hair a gentle tug. "Enough of that now".

Winters tucked a strand of hair behind her hair, "you know what, Murphy?"

"What?"

"You never cease to amaze me".


	15. Chapter 15

On June 20th, Easy were back out on the main line of resistance, south of Carentan.

They dug-in, sat tight and waited for orders.

They only wanted Easy for patrols, seemingly.

Which seemed good enough for them.

The only problem was, the Germans were also patrolling the area.

There was always a chance of running into a squad of Germans.

Easy would receive orders from the guys up top, Winters would then assemble a team, numbers depended on the mission ahead, and they'd go off for the night. If all went well, they'd return hours later, if not, they'd come back the next morning, or later on in the afternoon.

The guys who came back looked tired as hell. So, the rest made sure they had enough to eat, drink and were sitting tight.

It's how you looked after one another out there, someone was having a rough time out on patrol, you'd be there to make sure he was situated and looking after himself.

They were positioned by more hedgerows.

And in front of them, a long stretch of field.

On the other side, were more hedgerows, houses and farms behind them.

Perfect for the Germans to hide out in.

That's why they needed frequent patrols, to push them back.

It was still tense, Easy were always aware they could have been easily attacked at any moment. And you'd bet outpost duty was tough. Every tree looked like a German. And when the next guy came to relieve you after two hours, he had to be very careful. Flash and Thunder, it was still their go to password during those moments out on outpost.

No one wanted a repeat of Floyd.

"Need a squad out".

Whenever Buck said this, there was a couple of guys who'd volunteer.

Guarnere had given Murphy a warning, "don't volunteer for nothing. Keep your head down and shut your yap".

But Murphy was sick of sitting around.

She hadn't been on one patrol because of Guarnere's warning.

"I'll go". She offered.

She could already feel Wild Bill's glare on the side of her face.

Buck nodded, "alright, good – anyone else?"

Carson raised his hand, along with Liebgott and McClung.

"Alright, good". He said, "you four – come with me".

The small patrol was to set for that night, 2100 hours.

Murphy was leading it.

She didn't ask why, Buck just told her to lead.

They wanted them to check out a house, one-mile from their current position.

It was going to be occupied but they didn't want them to enter the house.

Just to check-out the area and report back with how many Germans were inside.

"Just get close enough to spot 'em". Buck told her, "any problems, head back".

"Alright, sir". Murphy replied evenly, "see you later".

She had Liebgott on her right, Carson to her left and McClung keeping an eye on their rear.

For the first mile, it was fine.

When they reached a fence, there was a path leading up towards the house. The four of them were crouched down opposite, taking covering behind the trees. The only problem was, they couldn't see anything from their position. Murphy would need to get closer.

"I'll head to the fence". She told them quietly, "stay here, get ready for anything".

"Careful, Murph". Liebgott told her.

Murphy reached the fence and peered out between the strips of wood.

It was a low fence, only standing around two or three feet.

But even then, she couldn't see anything.

Turning to face them, she signalled for them to move up to her.

One by one, they reached the fence.

"Alright, we can't see anything". Murphy whispered, "cover here, I'll go up further".

It was a little risky, heading straight up to the house but it was a job and Murphy was all for getting a job done. If she went back with no news, she'd feel like a let-down.

Rubbing her lips together and finding that confidence within, Murphy moved up.

She didn't move up the path, she took the grass instead.

Walking on hard ground would have created a noise, Murphy didn't want to get shot at.

The grass was her best option.

When Murphy reached the house, she got back down, almost sitting on her knees.

Carefully, she moved towards the window, sitting underneath the ledge.

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy slowly raised her head towards the window.

The house was occupied. She could see two Germans inside, sitting at a table.

They were armed, rifles, stick grenades, nothing too serious.

Murphy took cover again and bit down on her lip.

She figured they could take them as prisoners. If they started popping rounds, it might drag attention towards them. Murphy couldn't have it on her shoulders if someone got hit or died.

So, she beckoned for her squad to move up towards her.

Liebgott was the first to reach her side.

"Two inside". She whispered, "we'll take them with us".

He nodded, "how you 'wanna go about it?"

Murphy looked at him, "figured we'd just barge in, weapons are by their side".

Any other patrol, Murphy wouldn't have used this idea again.

It was pretty reckless, but she figured the quicker they got in, the better the outcome.

Besides, if they attacked it with confidence, Murphy didn't think much could go wrong.

"Don't shoot until I tell you".

That was her last order, before she moved towards the door and stood up.

Murphy then realised that she was glad Liebgott came along.

He could speak German.

When she was about to reach for the handle, Murphy saw that the door was open. Just a tiny bit but it meant she wouldn't startle the Germans with the sound of the door opening. Murphy held up her hand, giving her friends the signal to stay back.

She had a new plan.

Stepping into the house, the floor didn't creak. It was like stepping on feathers.

Murphy held up her rifle and rounded towards the archway.

The Germans hadn't noticed her yet, they were still at the table, talking and smoking.

When she stepped inside the room, Murphy looked at them.

"Get up". She said, quietly.

Now that they had noticed her, one of them made to grab their rifle.

"No, follow me". She told him, "quickly, come on".

Liebgott soon entered the room, upon hearing her talk.

The two Germans weren't moving, looking a little stunned at their intruder.

"Tell them to follow us, Lieb".

He raised his weapon, "Flogen Sie uns". Liebgott was speaking quietly too, but his voice held such a commanding tone at the same time.

They still weren't moving.

Murphy took a tiny step forward, "now".

"Jetzt!" Liebgott said, firmer now.

God, he could be pretty scary.

"Gordy, Earl – grab their weapons". Murphy told them, "they won't shoot".

The two of them moved forward, carefully approaching the Germans rifles.

"Get the stick grenades". She then added, "check their jackets for anything else".

However, new voices could be heard from outside the house.

Murphy mentally cursed, "everyone down! Gordy, Earl, keep them quiet".

They all got down and took cover.

Carson and McClung took cover behind the table with the Germans.

Liebgott stayed low behind an armchair.

And Murphy sat against the wall, by the archway.

There were Germans outside.

From the sounds it out, probably a squad of five.

Murphy looked over at Liebgott and gave him a nod.

They'd need to shoot these guys.

And it was tense. Sitting inside a house, taking cover and wondering what would happen next. Something would be wrong with you if you weren't that tiny bit scared.

Fear was good, this amount was perfect.

They were alert, high on adrenaline and ready to face whatever came through that door.

The Germans barged into the house, not realising they had two Germans at gunpoint.

As soon as they started to walk through that archway.

Murphy opened fire.

She got the first guy right through the chest and he fell down, in slow motion.

The other four turned around to check on him.

"Now!" Murphy yelled.

And Liebgott opened fire, getting the two closest to him.

Murphy took out the other two.

The ambush was so sudden and unexpected, the Germans didn't have time to reach for their weapons. Murphy didn't understand how they got out of that one. But she was glad that her friends were safe. But then again, after what they had been through, five Germans was nothing. And two prisoners on top of that.

She was proud of them.

They got the two Germans safely back into their line.

"Liebgott, come with me. We'll take them up". Buck told him.

"Sure thing, sir".

Murphy headed back to her foxhole, that had taken them two hours.

The prisoners were reluctant to leave at first but complied after a few carefully worded threats.

"Well, least you made it".

She snorted and got in beside Guarnere.

"I ain't that pissed". He said to her, "you snagged two prisoners".

Murphy nodded, "yeah…no thanks to Lieb".

Guarnere looked at her, "take some credit, huh? Don't be an ass".

After that patrol, Murphy was used for a few others.

They all went fine, some were quieter than others.

But she was never bored or sitting around for too long.

Murphy was teamed up mostly with Liebgott.

Carson came along to one and Toye even went on a couple.

She was beginning to enjoy the odd patrol.

And because she was always so busy, Winters found it hard to catch her.

Though one night, he did.

"Walk the line with me, Corporal".

Murphy smiled and got up.

It was a quiet evening and for once, it wasn't raining.

The stars were out, and the moon was covered by a single cloud.

A perfect night for a walk down the line.

"I'm glad you're not busy". Winters said.

She smiled softly, fingers brushing against his hand. "Me too, sir".

They didn't have to say how much they missed each other, they already knew that.

Besides, it was risky. Many of the men were awake.

Murphy gave his jacket a sleeve a tug, stopping him.

Winters turned to face her.

"Love you". She mouthed.

Smiling, he carefully took her hand for a few seconds. "Love you".

They continued to walk.

Sometimes loving in secret was hard, when all you wanted to do was show each other how much you loved one another. But it had its fun moments as well.

Sneaking into hotels for one. Murphy would never forget that night and morning.

"Liebgott, Carson and Toye want me to recommend you for a promotion".

Murphy laughed at that.

He must have been joking. Because being a Corporal was one thing but a Sargent?

Winters wasn't laughing.

She quickly sobered up. "What?"

He smiled, "is it really a surprise, Murphy? You've done really well since the drop".

"I – I've just been following orders, sir". Murphy whispered, shaking her head.

"Murphy, you may sometimes blend in, but people notice".

She shook her head with a tiny frown.

Winters eyes softened into hers, "listen to me, alright?"

Murphy gave him a tiny nod.

"Do you remember that march in Aldbourne, when Bloser fainted?"

Blinking, she crossed her arms and looked away.

Winters sighed quietly, "Murphy".

Clearing her throat, Murphy looked back at him. "Yeah – yeah, I remember".

"I just knew there was potential in you from that moment. And I was right, Murphy. I really believe you'd make an exemplary Sargent". He smiled, "I mean, you've already proved that by leading some sticky patrols. I got every last detail from Carson".

"Yeah…he's eager, sir". Murphy mumbled.

Winters continued to smile, "if this gets accepted, I really hope you accept the promotion. It's a good position to be in and you'll get good money to send back to your family".

Her expression shifted, "I will?"

He gave her a sad sort of smile, "accept it because you believe in yourself, Murphy. Because we all believe in you".

Murphy let out a quiet breath, "I'm not used to it".

"What?" He asked her softly.

She shook her head, "people thinking I could be good at something".

Winters frowned.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "mam was always nice like that, thinking I could be great. But society hated people like us. Irish immigrants, drinking away their money and sorrows. I was never amounted to anything, really". She sighed, "but joining the Paratroopers and Easy it – I don't know, I just feel like I belong here".

He wanted to kiss her but a hand on the shoulder would have to do, "you amount a great deal to us". And to me, he added to himself, hoping it came across in his eyes. "And you've worked hard for this promotion, Corporal Flynn".

Murphy pursed her lips together, stopping herself from kissing him.

Winters smiled a little, "I know, me too".

She snorted, shaking her head. "Thank you, sir".

He gave her shoulder a squeeze, "I'll walk you back".

"Yes, sir".

Murphy did consider the promotion.

She thought long and hard about that night.

It was a serious commitment. She'd be assigned a squad.

Murphy didn't know if she was ready for that sort of responsibility.

She'd be turning twenty-one soon, age wasn't an issue.

But would these guys even listen to a female?

Despite these conflicting thoughts, Murphy continued to lead patrols.

It had been a week since they first arrived and Welsh was leading his Platoon on a scouting mission, to check out some farmhouses. Murphy sat this one out with the rest from 2nd and 3rd.

They were all hoping to get some relief soon.

Everyone needed a shower, a hot meal and a bed to sleep on.

Shower was Murphy's main priority.

"Could always use the whiskey". Muck teased her.

They all teased her relentlessly, but she never did mind.

"Get lost, you all stink".

On their seventh day, while Welsh was leading his Platoon, the rest were trying to sort out their ammo and ration counts. It was starting to look a little scarce. Thankfully, Normandy had food to offer. Some of the guys even killed a cow, Brad Freeman was born and raised on a farm and said he'd dress the cow.

Guarnere was stunned, "you're 'gonna what?!"

"Dress it". He told him.

"Dress it? In a fucking skirt or what?!"

Poor Guarnere. He was a city boy, how was he to know dress meant cut up?

He turned to Murphy, "that guys fucking nuts, Murph".

Not all moments on the line were bad.

That moment with Freeman and Guarnere and them laughing for a good hour or so.

But the worst news came on the seventh day.

Blithe got shot.

A German sniper got him from a tree.

The bullet went right into his collar bone and Blithe was quickly pulled away.

And that was also the same day where Winters told them they were coming off the line. Twenty-five days of fighting and Easy were headed to a camp, north of Utah beach. And then, it was back to England.

Jesus, Blithe just missed it.

That was the gutting part.

You're almost at the end, and then you get hit.

"That's just shit luck". Toye told her, while they walked towards the trucks.

It was shit luck.

…

The camp itself was fine.

They had barracks, a mess hall, latrines, showers and a movie theatre.

And more brandy.

They had had a hot shower first, these showers had stalls. So, Murphy didn't have to wait.

And she spent a good forty minutes under the hot water, scrapping away mud, blood and whatever was left with a bar of soap. Her hair was another issue and once she was dried and changed, she sat on her bed for over thirty minutes, de-tangling her hair with a comb which threatened to break.

The thing was so flaccid, could have snapped in half.

Liebgott offered to cut her hair, free of charge.

Murphy declined. She didn't need it cut, she just needed to de-tangle it.

When everyone was clean, they headed into mess hall and ate a hot meal.

Beef stew. It was brilliant. They gobbled it all up in minutes.

And what else are you supposed to do, once you're off the line?

Most of the guys were quiet, they sat and reflected.

They thought about friends they had lost, the guys on the plane who never got to jump.

Murphy was wondering what they'd have to do next.

If it wasn't Normandy, what else was next for Easy?

Some of them shed a few tears. No shame in tears, not when it's all over.

Carson shed a few tears, so did Boyle.

Murphy wiped them away with her jacket sleeve and told them not to worry.

And Carson hugged her.

"We're alive, Murph".

"I know, pal".

Murphy was glad they had made it and she was glad she'd survived.

She didn't know how she survived. But was thankful all the same.

It was the 30th of June when they arrived at this camp.

Seventy-four officers and enlisted guys from Easy were present.

They suffered ten casualties in Carentan.

And sixty-five either wounded, killed or sick since D-Day.

One hundred and forty-nine guys set out to Normandy from Upottery.

It was a mammoth loss. A costly loss.

The camp could offer them rest but it was a sad time as well.

Thankfully, they had brandy and a movie to keep their minds busy.

Murphy didn't even try and stop them from drinking so much.

Whatever helps them get through this.

"I'm a crazy bastard, look what I did?!" Guarnere told her.

The two of them were sitting in the barrack, it was almost empty.

"You couldn't think, huh? Just had to keep on going forward".

Murphy nodded slowly.

"I was fucking nuts".

She smiled softly at that, "for one whole week, you just wanted to kill everything".

Guarnere raised an eyebrow, "you bet. Soon as I touched the earth, I was in it, Murph".

Murphy looked over at him. "Henry?"

He nodded, taking another drink of Cognac.

"I figured I would have been the same". She said, "if Noah had died before we jumped".

The two of them talked briefly of their time in combat.

It was always weird with Guarnere. He wasn't a soft guy, but he cared a lot about you.

Once you were his friend, he'd never let you forget.

Murphy wondered then if bringing up Henry was a bad idea.

"We got that in common, Murph". He told her, "losing a brother".

She looked down at her hands, which were clasped together on her lap.

"When you found me in the latrines…I could have smashed that mirror". Guarnere said, "you didn't want me missing that jump, huh?"

She choked out a tiny laugh, shaking her head. "No, Bill".

"Would have hated to miss it".

Murphy swallowed, with a small nod. "Me too, pal".

Guarnere grinned and gave her shoulder a clap, "hey – I recommended you for a promotion".

"Jesus". She whispered, huffing out a laugh.

"Yeah, heard there's a line before me".

"You're all 'fecking nuts".

He chuckled, "wouldn't argue with you there, Murph".

Murphy didn't see much of Winters for the first few days in camp.

But the guys at Brecourt did all band together and push forward the idea of Winters getting the Distinguished Service Cross. It was a stressful process at the start.

"We 'gotta write it out". Toye said.

"We're 'gonna need a typewriting". Ranney commented.

A few hours later, Guarnere turned up with a typewriter.

No asked where he got it, they didn't want to know.

What a devil!

Murphy was the designated writer. Guarnere told her to do it and she'd better do it.

For six hours, the guys all gathered around her bed, while she placed the typewriter on her lap and listened to everyone's side of the story. It was an annoying process for Murphy, sometimes the guys were all talking at once, wanting to tell their part in all of this.

"Stop!" She eventually said, "this is about Winters, not you being up a tree, Ranney!"

They all had their proud moments at Brecourt, it was their day.

But they had to write how Winters led the assault, what his plan at the beginning was and how he managed to handle with so few of them. And in writing this, Murphy's heart was bursting with pride.

So, they figured they'd write a brief introduction on the man and how well he did in training.

It was fun looking back on the Toccoa days.

And Murphy only mentioned Sobel a couple of times.

That arse.

But no one could deny it, without Sobel's harsh training, they might have been like every other Company out there.

At long last, the report was finished. All four pages.

They all signed their names at the bottom, Murphy and Guarnere took it up to Battalion.

She handed it to Nixon.

"I'll make sure Colonel Sink see's it". He promised them both. "Good job".

And on the 2nd of July, General Omar N. Bradley The First US Commanding General presented Winters with the Distinguished Service Cross. The day before he was promoted to Captain. Murphy and some of the guys were hiding around a corner, watching this General pin the cross onto Winters uniform. Murphy was grinning from ear to ear; what a moment to witness!

He looked very thankful, if not a little confused.

But he accepted it like any soldier would.

They had all had their uniforms washed the previous day, thanks to Winters who found a laundromat in Cherbourg. So, Winters was presented this cross with a fresh uniform. And they all watched looking as fresh as a spring daisy.

On the 10th of July, Easy were moved to the vicinity of Utah beach.

The next day, they'd be evacuated back to England.

For as far as the eye could see, they saw an armada of ships.

Thousands of them.

Just like the ones on D-Day.

They decided to spend the night on the beach. The water was calm, and things were quiet.

Murphy spotted Winters near the American flag, looking up at it.

She got up, dusted the sand off her uniform and walked over to him.

Winters couldn't hear her, and he continued to stare up at that flag.

Murphy could see his eyes looked a little shiny. Frowning, she took his hand.

He blinked and looked towards her.

Her lips turned up into a sad smile, "it's been a while since you last saw it".

Winters cleared his throat and nodded.

"It's very calm here". She whispered, staring out towards the sea. "It reminds me of the deck, on the ship over to England".

His face softened then.

"I was falling in love with you". She said, "you gave me your jacket".

Winters smiled. Yes, he remembered that. He never forgot.

Murphy stayed quiet, watching the waves gently crash against the sandbank.

He watched her. Gaze soft. She looked truly stunning in that moment, he thought. Just perfect, so quiet and still, like a painting. Winters moved closer to her and wrapped an arm around her. When she leaned against him, he kissed her head.

Eyes couldn't see them. The men were far enough away.

Murphy placed her arms around his waist.

She took in a deep breath, "Rob's dead, isn't he?"

Winters pressed his lips against the top of her head and gave the tiniest of nods.

Murphy bit down on her bottom lip. "Jesus". She choked, "I already knew it but – I don't know, I just never wanted to believe it".

He closed his eyes, "you're going to be fine, Murphy".

A shaky breath followed next and her eyes burned with tears.

"He's proud of you, I know that for a fact". Winters told her, "he was a good man".

Murphy's eyes slowly shut, a tear rolled down her face.

"Sobel pairing the two of you up to spar, was his only best decision".

She tried to talk but the words couldn't get past the lump in her throat.

Murphy's bottom lip quivered, a few more tears rolled down her face. She sniffed, Winters opened his eyes and took a tiny step back. He frowned and wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"I'm alright". She croaked, "sorry".

Winters shook his head, keeping his hand on the side of her face. "Don't apologise, sweetheart".

Murphy sniffed again and cleared her throat, "alright".

Leaning down, he gently placed his lips onto hers.

Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck, intensifying the kiss.

It had been far too long since their lips met.

Quiet acts of love were manageable. But sometimes, they just needed to be that little bit closer.

When the kiss ended, Winters pressed his forehead against hers. "I prayed to God that He'd keep us alive during all of this. And in return, I promised Him that we'd find a quiet spot on this earth and live out the rest of our lives together, in peace".

Murphy smiled softly and placed her hand on the side of his face, "our little corner of the universe. It won't come to us easy, but I know it's somewhere out there".

The next morning, they boarded the Landing Ship Tank and set forth back to England.

They all stayed on the top deck, wanting to watch the other troops from the ships walk onto the beach. It was strange, they were just leaving, and these guys were just going in.

"Hope they get out of there alive". Toye said.

"Jesus Christ, we just jumped in here a month ago and half the guys are gone!" Martin exclaimed, "we just started. None of us are 'gonna get out of this alive!"

"Well, Johnny". Guarnere said, "we'd all better have as much fun as we can. We might all be dead the next day, huh?"

Smirking, Murphy shook her head. "Get lost".


	16. Chapter 16

Going back to Aldbourne was like going back home.

All the locals were happy to see them and Easy were happy to be alive.

They got back in the evening on the 12th of July. And were given new uniforms, their back payments and seven-day passes. Murphy got around one hundred and fifty dollars and sent most of that money to her mum back in Limerick. And on top of that, Vest had a crap ton of mail they had been holding on for them while they were in Normandy.

They were given new weapons too. Their old ones were left in Normandy.

Winters gave them a quick lecture the next afternoon.

"Don't get into too much trouble. Keep your feet on the ground. No jail time".

It went along those lines.

Murphy could see the fire in their eyes.

They were the first G.I's back from combat. And they were all decorated with ribbons and medals. London didn't stand a chance.

The thing was, the American Paratroopers made a lot more than the English, so girls swooned towards them. Murphy could sense a lot of fights happening in London. And she'd rather not be apart of it. But her friends were so persistent. Murphy wanted to spend the week with Winters.

She'd need to pull a fast one.

After Winters lecture, everyone was packing to get out.

Murphy laid on her bed and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Get up, you ass. We're leaving". Guarnere told her.

Him and Martin were going to Edinburgh.

"I'm sick". Murphy croaked, "think I got the flu from the ship".

"You ain't dead, you're going".

So, Murphy was roped into going to Edinburgh.

She figured two days wouldn't hurt, then the rest she'd spend with Winters.

Murphy managed to catch the man, while he walked into the stables.

"I'm going to Edinburgh, sir".

His lips pulled into a smile of amusement, "with Guarnere and Martin?"

"Yup".

Winters carefully brushed her fingers against hers, "I'll see you shortly, Corporal".

Murphy swallowed, with a tiny nod. "Yes, sir".

The journey up to Scotland was long.

Eight hours on a train from London and Murphy thought it would never end.

Martin had brought some bottles of brandy. He gave Guarnere and Murphy one.

"You may as well". He told her, "we'll be drunk as hell, Murph".

Sighing, she looked down at the bottle.

Sorry, 'mammy. Murphy thought, before taking a swig.

Still burned your throat, that feeling never got old.

Murphy figured she had done a lot worse than get drunk.

The three of them arrived into Edinburgh drunk and headed into the Grass Market.

Guarnere slapped a ten note on the counter, "three rounds – seven shots of whiskey".

That was three shots of whiskey each.

This little pub, the Black Bull, it didn't know what hit them.

With the more they drunk, their egos got full really fast.

Guarnere swooped in beside this girl, who was with her boyfriend.

"Hey – you know, I could treat you real good, baby".

"Oi!" The boyfriend exclaimed, "what the fuck are you doing?!"

"Don't mess with me, kid". Guarnere warned him, "me and my buddies, we just got back from Normandy".

So, this new girl, Claire, she joined them.

Claire was nice enough, born and raised in Edinburgh.

Murphy didn't really get much more information. Her brain had turned into mush.

They were all spinning, everything was spinning.

This little booth they had in the corner, suddenly felt very small.

And it was warm, the more she drunk, the warmer she felt.

Half the time, Murphy was looking around the place, as if she was in China or something.

And whenever someone tried to talk with her, she'd look at them as if they asked her to break a Cipher code.

The girl was wasted.

When she got up, Murphy swayed.

Guarnere laughed, "we're drunk as sixteen fucking skunks!"

Murphy staggered into the bathroom, she used the toilet and almost fell in.

God, this was going to hurt like hell tomorrow.

Why did she agree to this?

Murphy left the bathroom, crashing into tables, chairs and people.

They were pissed off at her.

One of them took a swing for her.

But Murphy had already fell to the floor.

Martin and Guarnere were laughing, too drunk to think of safety.

They were young and hyper from coming back.

Slowly, she got onto her feet and used the tables to get her back to the booth.

Murphy drank a beer, fresh from a bottle.

That was her last drink in the Black Bull.

When they left the pub, Guarnere took Claire around the back of two buildings.

Martin and Murphy went to a small joint, they grabbed some chips.

The owner was reluctant to serve them, because Murphy kept on tripping over.

Martin grinned at this guy, "she's fine…back from Normandy and all".

"What is you wanted?" He asked, sounding bored of the pair of them already.

Murphy looked up at him, "what do I want? Johnny…where the fuck are we, pal?"

"Two chips". He told the guy, "and don't be smart about it, huh?"

"Hey, Johnny?" Murphy asked, "they're having sex".

Martin nodded, "yeah, they are".

She sighed, leaning against a table, "tell you something…Frannie sure is good".

"Ha – don't tell her!"

Murphy waved him off, "like I would ever, Bill would kill me. And its not my business. I don't care".

Edinburgh was a good city. From what Murphy could recall.

Cobbled streets, old buildings and rich history – she was sure.

Her memory faded, right after they had those shots.

And the night wasn't over – Martin and Guarnere went at it hard.

That Claire girl left once they had some chips.

The three of them headed into another pub. Murphy didn't know the name of it. But it was packed. Mainly with old guys and collage students. The older guys were fun enough, always up for a laugh. They asked them about their time in Normandy.

"We were devils". Guarnere told them, "raised some serious hell".

You had to respect the older guys, they were veterans from the first war.

The collage kids were a pain in the arse.

"I'm going enlist at the correct age". One was telling them, "I believe I would excel as an officer".

This kid, he thought he was next Winters.

"It's mad out there". Martin told him, "I think you'd last a couple of hours".

Murphy, who had her head on the table, giggled lightly.

The kid looked offended, "what? Why is that?"

Guarnere was grinning, leaning back against the seat with his arms crossed.

"You go in there thinking you're 'gonna save the fucking world, you'll die quicker".

"It appears your friend is on her way out". The wannabe Winters pointed out.

Guarnere quickly lunged forward and grabbed the kids' collar, "what's that you're saying, kid? I know it ain't about Murph".

Murphy raised her head, a coaster stuck to her forehead. "Bill…let him – let him go".

"You're fucking lucky". Guarnere let him go, the kid fell back against the seat.

Martin was smiling throughout.

She looked over at Guarnere, "do you need the – do you need the sleep, Bill?"

He laughed, "huh?!"

Murphy shook her head, suddenly looking disgusted at what she had said. "Maybe I need the sleep?" She whispered.

That coaster stuck to her head the entire time and was still there the next morning.

However.

That was the least of her worries.

Waking up in a small bed and breakfast, she was on the ground.

A blanket was tossed over her body.

Guarnere and Martin were on the bed.

Feeling like a heard of elephants had almost killed her, she sat up.

And then, her eyes caught sight of something on her arm.

"Holy – fuck!"

Martin and Guarnere both sat up, wide awake.

"I have a tattoo!"

It turned out, the three of them all decided to get tattoos at some point during the night. It was of a Paratrooper, coming down from the sky. Though nice, they had never planned on getting one.

"Why the hell did we get tattoos?" Martin muttered, rubbing his arm, "yup – it's fucking real, alright".

Murphy fell back on the floor. What an idiot, she thought.

They spent most of the morning inside that bed and breakfast.

The older woman who ran it, made sure they were well fed and watered. She brought them up breakfast and lunch; Murphy couldn't face food.

Guarnere told them about Claire. Murphy tuned out that conversation for the most part.

Later on, that day, they decided to explore the city.

Now, she started to fall in love with Edinburgh.

Princess Street Gardens, the castle and camera obscura.

Those were the three things the troopers explored that day.

In the gardens, they fed the pigeons with seeds and nuts. It was a nice day; the sun was out, and the weather was warm. They had to take off their jackets, exposing their new tattoos.

"The lads are 'gonna rip us". Murphy remarked with a grin.

"Nah…we look badass". Guarnere said, "proper G.I's now".

"We look like three drunk idiots who got a tattoo". Martin commented.

They left Edinburgh and travelled into the night, arriving in Aldbourne the next morning.

Martin and Guarnere didn't stay for long, they went off to London that same afternoon.

Murphy passed on that offer. And they got it.

"Take it easy, Murph". Guarnere told her.

"That's exactly what I'll be doing". She smiled, "get lost, eh?"

Edinburgh with them, was interesting and fun.

Though, Murphy didn't plan on getting drunk ever again.

And she'd never get another tattoo.

When the stables were emptied.

Murphy sprinted out of there, like a bullet was chasing her.

She ran down the street, while others looked on.

What the devil was her hurry?!

Murphy passed the grocer, the pubs and then the church.

And soon skidded to a stop, once she reached the apartment above the post office.

She knocked twice and took a step back.

Mrs Barnes answered, and a wide smile spread across her lips.

"Murphy!"

And to her surprised, the woman pulled the Irish girl into a hug.

Murphy smiled all the same, hugging her back.

"Oh, I was wondering when you'd show up, dear".

"It's good to see you, Mrs Barnes".

The older woman pulled back from the hug, "come in, I'll put the kettle on".

The house hadn't changed.

Mr Barnes was sitting by the fireplace, reading a newspaper.

Elaine was at school, but she'd be home later that afternoon.

And Winters was sitting on the couch, reading a letter.

"Look who stopped by, Richard". Mrs Barnes said, on her way to the kitchen.

His eyes looked up sharply, he smiled.

Murphy smiled back and sat down next to him, "morning, sir".

Winters put his letter to the side and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She frowned a little.

"They know". He told her quietly, "both very pleased, they assure me".

"Oh". Murphy sighed, relieved. She then rubbed her lips together, "so, I should probably show you something later".

A tiny smirk reached his lips, "okay?"

Mr Barnes cleared his throat, ruffling the paper.

Murphy grimaced a little, slowly turned to face him. "Hello, Mr Barnes".

The older man peered over his paper, "hello, Corporal Flynn. Glad to see you safely back".

She smiled a little, "you too, Mr Barnes".

Mr Barnes chuckled quietly, "I hear you two are an item now".

Murphy cleared her throat, "eh – yeah, Mr Barnes. We are".

The teapot whistled, "young love!" Mrs Barnes called from the kitchen.

Winters smiled and wrapped an arm around her, "indeed, Mrs Barnes!"

Murphy grinned, looking at Winters.

"How was Edinburgh?"

The grin soon vanished, "I'll tell you later". She whispered, "nothing bad happened, I just – I'll tell you later".

Winters looked amused, "interesting".

"Could say that, yeah".

Mrs Barnes brought through the tea and started to pour the hot liquid out into four small cups.

She had missed this tea and the precious moments inside a warm and inviting house.

Murphy took a sip and sighed, that felt good.

They never spoke about the war, Elaine was the topic of interest.

"Conor". Mr Barnes grunted, "I'll give it to the boy, he's well educated".

"Oh, let them be Francis". Mrs Barnes told him off, "Elaine is at a good age for love".

"I would expect this from her in a few years". He went on, "but by God, she's still a child!"

"And she'd sooner yell at you for saying that, dear".

And just like that, Mr Barnes expression softened. "You always win these arguments, Louise".

Mrs Barnes smiled, "because you love me, you daft bugger".

While they were having their tiny dispute, Murphy was looking at Winters.

She wondered if they'd have arguments like them.

Take great interest in their children.

Live on that farm.

Murphy wanted those things with him. She wanted to see their children have children.

And she wanted to grow old with the man she loved, the person she loved most in this world.

Leaning against his side, Murphy placed her head on his shoulder.

Winters kissed the top of her head.

She loved being in love.

Murphy was invited to spend the night.

Of course, she took Welsh's bed, who was out in London with the others.

However, Winters sooner picked her up and placed her on his bed.

Giggling, Murphy moved the hair from her face and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Their lips met, into another fantastic kiss.

Winters kissed her forehead before pulling back, "alright…what have you 'gotta show me?"

Sighing, Murphy sat up and removed her jacket.

He placed her jacket onto Welsh's bed.

His eyes went wide, when he saw that tattoo.

"Yeah – it's". Murphy cleared her throat, "I got drunk and…well, this happened".

Winters traced his fingers across the tattoo gently.

Biting her lower lip, she looked for a reaction.

And he was quiet for a few minutes, simply staring at the lone trooper on her arm.

But then he placed his hands on her hips, pulling her in closer.

"I like it".

Murphy raised an eyebrow.

Winters shrugged, "it looks good on you".

Her shoulders dropped in relief.

He leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips. "Very good, Corporal Flynn".

Murphy bit down on her lip and looked at him.

When their eyes met, Winters kissed her again.

It was intense, like they hadn't seen each other in years.

Clothes went flying everywhere, over the chair, on the floor and Welsh's bed.

Murphy was soon on her back, while Winters kissed every part of her body.

They couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Nails dug into the mattress, into skin and toes curled.

It took them ten minutes from supper, for that to happen.

Murphy didn't know why she wasn't more exhausted.

They had just gotten back from combat. They should have been sleeping by nine.

She wanted to remember that moment for the rest of her life. Murphy promised never to forget the times she spent alone with Winters. It made everything worth it. The training, the waiting and the combat. And in this small room, on a single bed, they fell asleep together, just like they had done in the hotel.

It was another magical moment.

Murphy didn't sleep straight away.

Her head was on Winters chest, his breathing was even and peaceful sounding.

She had a hand on his heart, while her other hand drew circles on his chest.

Murphy could have stayed up all night, knowing that he was beside her and safe.

His breathing stopped being so heavy.

Winters placed a hand on her head, beginning to play with her hair. "Go to sleep, sweetheart".

Murphy's lips twitched, "love you". She whispered.

"Love you too, Murphy".

The next morning, Murphy woke up in an empty bed with the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. She sat up, stretched and pushed her hair away from her face.

Looking over, she saw that her clothes were neatly placed on Welsh's bed.

Smiling, she got up and quickly put them on.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, just as she put on her socks.

Murphy walked over and opened it.

"Morning, Corporal Murphy". Elaine beamed.

"I told you, call my Murphy". She responded with a smile, "school soon?"

She nodded, "Mrs Barnes made us all some breakfast. Mr Winters is in the shower".

"I'll be right there".

"Alright…Murphy".

Murphy chuckled and walked over to the dresser.

Opening it up, she brought out Winters comb and started to de-tangle her curls.

She really needed to invest in a brush or something, this was getting ridiculous.

Winters entered the room, while she was combing her hair.

He was dressed, ready for the day ahead.

Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek.

"Good morning, sweetheart". He mumbled softly into her ear.

"Morning". Murphy replied lightly. "Plans for today?"

He nodded, resting his chin onto her shoulder. "How about we head into town?"

"Sounds fine". Murphy said, with a tiny sigh. "Get 'meself a bloody brush".

Winters chuckled, "good idea".

She turned around and nodded towards the bed, "your turn, come on Captain".

Pulled an amused face, Winters sat on the bed and Murphy got behind him.

She was combing his hair.

Winters couldn't remember the last time someone combed his hair.

He must have been really young, and it was probably his mother.

And now, Murphy was doing this for him, just because she wanted to.

And that she cared.

When Murphy finished, she kissed his cheek. "Very handsome, Captain Winters".

He smiled, "thank you, sweetheart".

She wrapped her arms around his neck, head resting on his shoulders. "And I just want you to know, that I love you a lot right now…even though you aren't naked".

Winters laughed, "thank you, Murphy".

They went to Swindon after breakfast.

It was a nice trip, they spent the better part of the afternoon there.

However, many troopers were in Swindon.

So, they were out of their bubble and back to reality for those hours.

Murphy got her brush, that's all she really wanted.

And she also picked up a copy of The Hobbit.

She could always do with more reading. Plus, she'd heard it was good.

Winters bought her the book.

Murphy had insisted on buying it, but he wanted to purchase something for her.

They had lunch in a quiet cafe, on the edge of town.

She took his hand under the table and smiled.

"It's been a nice day, sir".

Winters smiled back, squeezing her hand. "It has, Murphy".

It truly was.

The sun was shinning down on them.

Everything was perfect when you were in love.

…

Winters had started to work-out.

He had soon become tense since coming back from the line.

He'd get up early and run and then do push-ups and sit-ups on the floor.

Winters started to do this a couple of days later, after coming back from Swindon.

Murphy was sitting up on the bed, reading The Hobbit.

She was enjoying the book so for, very addictive.

However, three chapters in, Murphy felt a headache coming along.

Putting the book down, she saw Winters doing sit-ups, feet under his foot-locker.

Rubbing the side of her head, she got up.

"I'm getting us water".

"Alright, Murphy".

Winters didn't think much of it at the time and neither did she.

It was only headache, she'd had worse.

Christ, she almost had a house fall on top of her!

But the next morning, Winters went out for his run and came back.

Usually, Murphy would be awake and getting ready for the day, but she was still fast asleep.

Just a little concerned now, Winters sat down on the edge of the bed and felt her forehead.

She was boiling!

Murphy's eyes slowly opened.

"Murphy?" Winters whispered, "you feeling alright?"

It took her a few moments to figure that out herself.

God, it was freezing in this room.

And every bit of her ached, not just her head.

"Can you close the window, please?" She croaked.

Even her throat hurt. Her voice sounded like she had swallowed glass.

Winters frowned, "you're cold?"

Murphy gave him a tiny nod, "you're not?"

He shook his head, "no…I'm okay, sweetheart".

Her eyes widened a little. "Am I dying?"

"What – no, Murphy". Winters said softly, "no, I think you have the flu".

Murphy shook her head, "no, I – I can't have that".

"It's okay". He said to her, "I'll look after you, it's 'gonna be fine".

The flu. She remembered the flu. Her baby brother had the flu.

Murphy's heart was racing. Convinced she was going to die from this flu.

And she had been so careful with her hand washing. They were red-raw.

How could she have the flu?

Winters pushed her hair from her face, "it's 'gonna be fine, sweetheart".

Murphy pursed her lips together.

Well, if he seemed confident. Then maybe it would be okay.

He told her to stay in bed, while he got her a drink.

Murphy couldn't move anyway; this flu wouldn't allow it. Her body felt heavy and very sore.

She sat up, just a little, when Winters came back with a glass of water.

"I've put the water on, I'll make you some tea".

God Bless Richard Davis Winters.

Murphy took a sip of water. It hurt going down, worse that Cognac.

Kissing her forehead, Winters took the glass back and set it down on the bedside table.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Will you stay?" She whispered, she didn't even care how pathetic she sounded.

Winters smiled, with a tiny frown. "Of course, Murphy".

He got in beside her and wrapped his arm around her.

She fell onto his chest and grabbed his hand, placing it on her head.

Taking that hint with a smile, Winters started to play with her hair.

And he surprised her, when he started to sing softly under his breath.

Of course, it was "I'll be seeing you", but that was now an Easy classic, thanks to Joe Toye.

Murphy fell asleep in his arms.

Winters had to quietly and carefully leave her asleep.

He finished off his exercises, she never woke up.

He helped Mr Barnes put up a shelf in the living room, for his ever-growing book collection.

And then helped Elaine with her homework when she got in from school.

It had been a long day without Murphy by his side, never failing to make him smile.

"Will you go and see if Murphy wants some dinner, dear?"

"I will, Mrs Barnes".

Winters walked into their bedroom, Murphy was still asleep.

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her forehead.

Murphy's hand poked out from under the covers and grabbed his other hand.

Winters smiled and kissed her lips gently.

"You silly bugger".

He chuckled softly.

Murphy opened her eyes, "you'll get sick".

Winters shrugged, "I don't care".

A tiny smile reached her lips, "my silly bugger".

He kissed her forehead this time, "how're you feeling?"

"Fine". She said, "should be better soon".

Winters smiled, "good". He said, "missed you today…you've slept all day".

Murphy yawned softly into the covers, "doesn't feel like it".

"Our weeks almost up".

"I know".

Winters laid down next to her again, "replacements will be coming in".

Murphy placed her hands onto his chest and sat up a little.

"We're 'gonna have to train them hard". He said, "I brought over 30. caliber ammo from Normandy. They're going under live ammunition fire, overhead".

"I remember that one". She mumbled, "bullets flying over your head, no choice but to keep moving and stay low".

Winters nodded, "they've 'gotta be prepared".

"Who smuggled it in?"

He snorted, "who do you think?"

Smiling, Murphy placed her head on his chest.

Winters played with her hair.

"How many miles this morning, Captain?"

"Three". He smiled, "just enough".

"Sorry I missed it".

"I'm beginning to wonder if you pulled a sicky on me, Corporal Flynn".

Murphy grinned, "I wouldn't cross you, Dick".

She was feeling better the next morning.

After something to eat and a hot cup of tea, she could take over the word.

While sitting outside, on a bench by the post office, Murphy had a few letters on her lap.

It was still early, Winters was up in their room, finishing off his work-out.

And Murphy decided to read some of the letters she got while out in Normandy.

Most of them were updates on the twins, they were both doing fine.

But the next one, it didn't hold the best of news.

Michael was back in the picture.

It seemed like Maggie couldn't stay away.

That really pissed Murphy off.

 _"He was very kind and compassionate about Noah"._

Was what her mother was written to her.

 _"I understand if you're upset with me, Murphy but it's been difficult"._

Shaking her head, Murphy scrunched the letter up into a ball and tossed it into the bin beside the bench.

Michael would never change. He was a cruel and evil man.

And he had Maggie wrapped around his finger.

His wicked and vicious finger.

What the hell was she going to do now?


	17. Chapter 17

When the week ended and Easy were all back together again, they were given a star to put on their jump wings. No one knew about that and as crazy as it sounded, they wanted more stars.

As well as the star, the guys from Brecourt were all awarded a bronze star.

Guarnere and Buck were the only ones awarded a silver star.

And Winters had his Distinguished Service Cross.

Murphy had a bronze, she was fairy chuffed with that.

A lot of promotions were made that day as well.

Guarnere was now Staff Sargent, Buck and Welsh were now 1st Lieutenants. Though Welsh was now serving as Winters executive officer. Peacock, Brewer, Pisanchin, Hudson and Shames were new officers joining Easy, replacing the ones they lost in Normandy.

Boyle was advanced from Sargent to Staff Sargent, where he would serve in Company Headquarters. He was a good Sargent but found leading men in combat difficult. He was great at training, just lacked leadership on the line.

Robert T Smith was also promoted to Staff Sargent. Another guy from 2nd Platoon.

Also promoted to Sargent were; Malarkey, Muck, Kenneth Mercier, Arthur Youman, Paul Rogers, Ranney, Toye, Christenson, Smokey, Plesha, Shifty and Murphy.

And now that she was a Sargent, she'd be given a rifle squad.

Toye was now the 1st squad Sargent.

And in his squad, was a guy called Edward Heffron.

Guarnere spotted him from a bed he was sitting on, when the replacement walked inside.

Murphy watched this curiously.

"You from Philly?"

Heffron had just tossed his bag on an empty bed, "yeah".

"Which part?"

"South".

"Seventeenth street".

Heffron grinned, "2nd and Wilbur".

Murphy looked over at Toye, who shrugged.

Clearing her throat, she got up from the bed. "How'd you know that, Bill?"

Guarnere grinned, "walks like a fucking penguin, don't he? South Philly shuffle".

Heffron laughed, "you're Sargent Flynn, right?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah, Murphy Flynn…what's your name?"

"Edward Heffron". He said, "they call me Babe".

She never asked why.

"Bill Guarnere". He shook Heffron's hand, "good to meet you, Babe".

McClung wasn't at all impressed. He was pissed for many reasons. One of them being; he didn't like the replacements and was convinced they'd be the first ones to die. Murphy didn't believe that for a second. Every guy had a chance of staying alive, replacement or not.

"You ever fire a machine-gun, Babe?" Guarnere asked.

"Taught them back in training". He replied, "30's and 50's, to officers and the likes".

He clapped his shoulder, "my buddy over there, Sargent Toye. He's the 1st squad Sargent".

Toye looked up from his rifle, "how's it going, Babe? Good to have you on board".

"Yeah…I'll put you with that giant mick".

Murphy snorted softly.

Toye tossed the rag he was cleaning his rifle with to her, "where's your squad, Murph?"

"Not here yet". She replied, "coming in tomorrow".

"You scared?"

"Oh, you bet".

Heffron pulled a face, "I ain't hearing that right".

Murphy looked at him.

"You're a Normandy vet! You can't be scared of meeting us replacements".

"Came off it, Babe". Murphy waved him off lightly, "you're a part of this crazy bunch now".

Guarnere smirked, "yeah – welcome to the fucking family".

Heffron was lucky to have Guarnere like him straight off the bat.

Some of the other replacements were having a rough first day.

They were a little nervous to meet the Toccoa guys. And some of the Toccoa guys, like Cobb, and McClung weren't all that nice to them. But the rest didn't seem to mind. Buck was good with them, always really compassionate towards the replacements. He really looked after them and made sure they were settled in with their squads. Buck had always been that way, ever since he first joined Easy.

Heffron told Murphy that night which guys had stood out to him the most, Buck was one of them of course. And the others were Toye, Grant, Guarnere and Luz.

"And you're swell too, Murph". He added with a smile, "just not sure how to talk to the others".

"You'll get used to it, Babe". Murphy told him quietly. "You come up with a couple of pals?"

"Julian and J.D". Heffron said, "Julian's in 1st, J.D 3rd".

"You're lucky to come up with friends". She said to him, "it was bonkers when I got to Toccoa".

He chuckled, "man, I bet".

Murphy soon smiled, "they didn't even notice me for the first three days".

Heffron raised his eyebrows, "really?"

She chuckled, "yeah – straight-up".

"That's crazy".

"It is, yeah".

Heffron was lucky, Guarnere refused to get close with other replacements.

Martin and Bull were the same.

The next morning, Guarnere had three guys for her.

Henry E. Nelson. Jason Hughes. And Eugene Jackson.

As nervous as she had felt the previous day, it all seemed to vanish.

Because they were nice and looked sharp enough.

Nelson was the oldest, at twenty-three. Then came Jackson, at twenty-two and Hughes was the youngest, he was only eighteen. That scared her a little, Murphy didn't like that he was still a kid in her eyes. But despite that slight moment of doubt, she asked where they were from and how training had gone. And Murphy was surprised to hear that Jackson had just finished fighting in the Pacific. He had completed his duty, went back home to Arnold Pennsylvania but decided he wanted to be a Paratrooper.

"Great". Murphy said, "you'll fit right in, Jackson".

Training started up the following day.

Winters had the machine-guns set up, ready to fire out.

And it was Murphy's job to brief her squad on what was about to happen.

"In those guns, is 30. caliber ammo. Live rounds. Stay low, crawl on your belly. Don't lift any part of your body, you'll get shot. Understand?"

"Yes, Sarge".

God, she sure hoped they got that.

This was the part of training Murphy had been dreading the most.

And watching the three of them getting ready to endure live ammo, made her heart quicken.

Murphy got as close as she possibly could.

"Alright, get down". She told them, "when the guns stop firing, get up".

Jackson was used to this, Nelson and Hughes – they weren't.

Murphy could see it in their eyes, they were scared.

"Alright – keep your heads down".

She turned towards Liebgott, who was firing out one of the machine-guns.

"Are you all down?"

"Yes, Sarge".

Murphy shook her head, "are you all down?!"

"Yes, Sarge!"

Lips twitching, she gave Liebgott the nod.

The machine-guns ripped open.

Murphy turned back around and watched them.

It was strange, she wondered if she looked like them during her first encounter with this training exercise. She must have done, probably looked more like Nelson at the moment.

"Keep going!" She told them, "that's good – Hughes, don't slack off!"

Murphy continued to watch their every move.

Nelson soon slowed down a little, Jackson was in the lead and Hughes was gaining on him.

She was impressed by Jackson's speed.

Hughes was beginning to feel more confident with each passing bullet.

Where as Nelson struggled.

When they stopped firing, her squad got onto their feet.

Uniforms were coated with mud, but they looked relieved.

Rubbing her lips together, she looked over at Guarnere and Buck.

They seemed content with the outcome.

"We're 'gonna need to do that again". She said, "right, Nelson, let's do this together".

Though he wasn't happy about it, Nelson didn't have a choice.

"Jackson, give Liebgott the signal when we're down".

"Okay, Sarge".

Murphy and Nelson got down into the mud.

It was wet and all things slimy. But nothing she wasn't used to.

"Okay, we'll go quicker". She told him, "pretend your girls on the other side".

Nelson huffed, "I don't have a girl".

"Well…think of something nice then – I don't know. But you have to move quicker".

He nodded, "my sister".

Murphy pulled a face and looked ahead. "That's weird".

"Ready!" Jackson called over to Liebgott.

When the bullets started firing, you'd better move quick.

This kind of training was tough on the rookies. Few of the replacements were used to it already.

Heffron and his buddies being a few of them.

Murphy figured Winters was right, they did need this scare tactic.

"Get moving!" She told Nelson, "chase me! Come on!"

She had every confidence that Nelson could do it better this time around.

And he did.

When the bullets stopped, they both got up.

Murphy looked back over at Buck and Guarnere.

"That'll do, Murph!" Buck called at her.

She sighed in relief, "good job, Nelson".

And he was more than pleased.

Besides from ducking bullets, Murphy wanted them to be sharp as hell.

When it came to inspections, they hated her, but she didn't care.

If something wasn't right, she'd make them sort it out.

Rust on a weapon, bed sheet a tiny bit creased, uniform not folded properly.

Murphy was sure to find it.

One morning, before Peacock made the inspection round, Hughes had left a sock under the bed.

She spotted it, of course, and picked it up from the ground.

"Was that meant to be there?"

He shook his head, "no, Sarge".

Murphy nodded slowly, "so why's it under your bed, Hughes?"

"It fell, Sarge".

"From where? The sky?"

Hughes shook his head again, "from my bed, Sarge".

"Jesus Christ". Murphy whispered, "why was it on your bed to begin with?"

He blinked, "it's not on my foot, Sarge".

She made a gesture of confusion, "what – put it on your foot! For God's sake, Hughes!"

"I'm sorry, Sarge, I-"

"quiet, Hughes". She mumbled, "the only voices I should be hearing are the ones in my head".

Murphy was pretty pissed off with that.

How could you forget to put on a sock? What if he did that out in combat and got wet feet?

Well, he'd get an infection or trench foot.

They had to learn.

But despite being hard on them, the majority of the time, Murphy always found ways to make them laugh. Like one night, it was during a field exercise. They were going over the tactics used in Carentan. Mainly focusing on what happened on that road, and ways to avoid that again.

Nelson had somehow managed to drift away from the squad, Murphy didn't know how.

But Guarnere found him and Murphy could tell he was mad at her.

"Where did you go, Nelson?"

"Got lost, Sarge".

"How did you get lost?"

Nelson sighed, "I fell in a ditch, lost you all, Sarge".

"You fell in a ditch, and you got lost?" Murphy repeated slowly.

He nodded, "yeah, Sarge".

She shook her head, "you're messier than a soup sandwich".

Guarnere grinned from behind Nelson.

Nelson sighed again, "Sarge, I didn't meant to-"

"don't talk to me with your mouth open". Murphy said.

He closed his mouth, looking mildly confused. Though, there was a hint of amusement.

She nodded behind her, "get back with the squad, Nelson".

When he left, they both laughed quietly.

Guarnere was the first to stop laughing, "Murph, keep a close eye on them, huh?"

She nodded, "I will, Bill". Murphy said, "I'll talk with him later".

When she got back with her squad, the three of them were chuckling quietly.

Murphy grinned.

It wasn't so bad being a Sargent.

Another fond moment happened the morning after a night patrol.

They were training the replacements to properly camouflage themselves.

The next morning, Murphy walked into the stables and got her squad up.

"Jackson, I didn't see you at camouflage practise last night".

The three of them laughed.

"Thank you, Sarge!"

Murphy had it all mapped out in her head.

What she wanted from her squad, was for them to be sharp, quick and quiet.

Jackson was a great at that already. He was quiet enough, no one took much notice of him.

Hughes was likeable, funny and knew when to shut up.

And Nelson was her nervous replacement. Who needed reassurance.

She put Jackson in charge with helping the oldest replacement.

Murphy was busy with all three and needed an extra hand with Nelson.

She could always rely on Jackson to do the job.

They'd just need to keep a close eye on him.

The one thing Murphy would never do was revoked their weekend passes.

She didn't want to be like Sobel. Her guys worked hard for six days straight.

"You're all improving greatly". She told them, "I'll see you on Monday, have fun".

It didn't matter what sort of day thay had during training, Murphy would always point out the good parts of their day. And in private, she'd go over what they'd need to work on to better their chances of survival out in combat. Murphy wasn't soft, at least, she'd hope she wasn't. She just aimed to be fair and offer constructive criticism where it was needed.

Her squad seemed to arrive at the right time.

Last week, she found out about her mother getting back with Michael.

Murphy had been too busy to think about it.

And now that everyone was at London for the weekend, it was all she could think about.

Though, she wasn't alone for long.

"Where is everybody?"

Murphy turned around, "hey, Sarge".

Lipton smiled and dropped his bag, "seriously, Murph. Where is everyone?"

"We're in our own house, come on, I'll show you".

One of the perks with being a Sargent was they got their own separate house.

It was all the Toccoa guys, under one thatched-roofed house on London street outside of Aldbourne. And it was great. Though, it still came with rules, of course. They had to be in the village at a certain time for training, though their training was never as bad as the replacements. Winters made sure of it.

Though, some of the guys were off in London.

Grant, Martin and Bull stayed behind.

Everyone was glad to have Lipton back.

And Lipton said Floyd and Smokey should be coming back soon as well, within the next week. Popeye was still stuck in the hospital but had been planning on busting out; he was very bored and restless apparently.

"Fancy a night out, Lip?" Grant asked, "meeting some of the fellas in London".

"They'll be nothing but glad to see you". Bull added.

Lipton nodded with a grin, "alright, I'll go".

"Murph?" Martin asked.

She shook her head, "I've got things to sort out".

"Nelson still?"

Murphy shrugged, "he's getting better". She mumbled, "just lacks confidence. Always looking for validation on everything he does".

Of course, that was almost a lie.

Murphy was going to see Winters.

And when they left, she made sure no one was lurking around.

They were going to spend the night here; the guys wouldn't be back until Sunday night.

It was sneaky but Murphy had planned an escape route, just in case.

So, when the close was clear, she started to begin preparations.

This would be their first official date.

Planned and well thought-out by Murphy.

It would start with a three-coursed meal.

You'd better believe she'd been planning this since they got back to Aldbourne.

Murphy had it all figured out. She had bought a chicken, vegetables and potatoes.

For starters, it was something simple. Bread and butter. She wasn't creative.

And for pudding, sticky toffee pudding with custard.

Of course, there were a few errors.

For one, Murphy couldn't cook.

But Winters didn't need to know that, she just had to do a decent job with this meal.

The chicken was in the oven, the potatoes were on the stove, and the vegetables had been chopped and prepared. Murphy had set up the table, bread and butter sitting in the centre, with a jug of water and two glasses set down neatly. The house was smelling good.

Murphy had lit candles. She saw it in a movie once, the actress really liked it.

She figured Winters might have liked it too.

And she cleaned up the house.

Their home was big. Two bathrooms, five bedrooms, a large living room and a kitchen.

They had a dinging table in the kitchen, with enough chairs for everyone.

Murphy shared a bedroom with Grant, Guarnere and Toye.

They had two bunk-beds in their room and enough space for a desk, which was by the window.

The NCO's loved this house. And took care of it good and proper.

So, Murphy couldn't burn it down with her lack of cooking skills.

Right on time, at 1800 hours, Winters knocked on the door.

She really wished for once in his life, he'd be late.

The chicken wasn't ready, and for some reason, the potatoes were still hard.

She opened the door, Winters kissed her cheek and handed her flowers.

Murphy's heart melted.

Four yellow roses, three yellow Chrysanthemum, three mini sunflowers, two Solidago and Eucalyptus. The bunch of well-tended and positioned, the flowers were absolutely stunning.

She looked at him, "they're so lovely".

Winters smiled and kissed her on the lips.

Murphy grabbed his hand, pulling him inside.

She found a vase for them and filled it with water.

If anyone asked, Murphy bought them for the house.

Winters swooped her off her feet, carrying her bridal style.

With a toothy grin, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Where to, Captain?" She asked, taking off his cap and placing it on her head.

Winters smiled, "we set sail for the bunks".

"I like the sound of that".

It seemed they'd sooner starve.

Murphy wasn't complaining, neither was he.

However, lying on the bed, naked, came a smell.

She had her head on his chest, eyes slipping closed in content.

And when the smell reached the room, Murphy's eyes snapped open.

"The chicken!"

With a sheet wrapped around her body, Murphy started running.

She opened the oven and couldn't see the chicken.

It had shrunk to the size of her hand.

With a moan, hidden within a laugh, Murphy brought the tray out.

Winters was laughing, the hardest he had in a while.

She was sitting on the ground, presenting him with this chicken.

"Can you believe it?"

He nodded, "I can, actually".

Murphy gave him a playful glare, "you didn't have much faith in me to begin with, did you?"

Still grinning, Winters shrugged.

"Jokes on you". She said, "this is what you have to put up with".

His smile softened, "I'd take a burnt chicken every single day, if it meant being with you for the rest of my life, Sargent Flynn".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy smiled shyly.

She put the chicken on the counter and checked on the potatoes.

She frowned, after poking them with the knife. "They're not bloody soft".

Winters chuckled, though ran a hand down his face.

God, he really loved her.

"You didn't boil the water, sweetheart".

"Jesus on a bike!" Murphy exclaimed, "how 'bleeding stupid must I look!"

"You don't look stupid". Winters hugged her from behind, "you look like the woman I love".

Sighing softly, she leaned back against his chest, while he pressed kisses on her neck and shoulders. "Fancy some bread and butter?"

He smiled, "that sounds perfect".

The young couple sat at the table and ate bread and butter.

It wasn't the most ideal meal, but it meant a lot to them both.

"I 'wanna hear about training". Winters said to her, "Buck tells me you're doing good".

"He has?" Murphy was relieved. At least she was doing a good job.

"Yeah, he has". He smiled, "so, how are your men?"

"They're fine". She told him quietly, "Jackson's already been fighting in the Pacific. Hughes is young and eager to learn. Nelson's still lacking in a certain something. But we'll get there".

"Oh, that's interesting about Jackson".

"Yeah, that's what I thought". Murphy then asked, "how's the role of Captain?"

"It's fine". Winters responded.

She pursed her lips together, really looking at him.

He sighed quietly, "right – it's a little lonely at times". He admitted.

Murphy gave him a tiny nod.

"I'm commanding you all, it's hard to form a personal attachment".

She gave him the smallest of smiles.

Winters snorted, "and aren't I doing a good job".

"You are". Murphy insisted, taking his hand. "You could have done things a lot differently. But you chose to put combat and Easy first. You use who you think would be better for the job out on patrols, you've promoted all the right guys and you're doing a fine job on getting those replacements ready for war, Dick". She said, "they really look up to you, we all do. And I know you're not one for compliments, but I'll tell you, we're so lucky to have you".

He squeezed her hand.

"You know why we, as a couple, work?" Murphy said, "because out there in combat, we're thinking of our job first. Which is how it should be. You give me a job, and I'll do it. I'll always do it, Dick. And when we have those moments alone, it's the best feeling in the world". She said, "if you kept me safe, this wouldn't have worked".

Winters gave a small nod. "No, you're right, Murphy".

"I don't know the rules, Dick". Murphy told him softly, "but I think we might have created new ones, just to suit us".

He smiled, gazing into her wonderful eyes. "We have, Murphy. I dread to think what would happen if Colonel Sink found out".

"I'd be out". She told him, "he'd keep you, that man admires the hell out of you. And I'd make sure you stayed because Easy wouldn't be the same without you. And I'd wait for you, I'd wait thousands of years, for you".

Winters placed a hand on the side of her face, "one day, I'll make you my wife. If you'll ever have me, of course. And I promise, I'll do all I can to make you smile every day, to make you proud that you married me and for you to come home, to a chicken that isn't the size of my hand".

Chuckling softly, Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'll always want to marry you, Dick. I look into you and see the rest of my life right in front of my eyes".

"There isn't one person on the whole of this earth that I want more than I want you".

…

No one liked Peacock much.

He went by the books.

"He don't smoke, or drink. He ain't like Buck". Guarnere had said.

Murphy didn't care, she was only interested in what'd he be like out in combat.

That's all that really mattered. The officers didn't have to be your friends.

Buck was just lucky in that sense. He truly made an effort with them.

Peacock didn't.

One night, Guarnere and a few others had come back from London.

Carson had gone too and with them, they had two girls.

Piccadilly-Lilly's.

Prostitutes.

They wanted ten bucks for a night with the soldiers. Guarnere always got it cut in half.

Well, on this particular night, Guarnere and Carson decided to bring them home.

The girls were wearing leopard-print tights. Short skirts and high-heels.

Murphy was still awake, she was reading The Hobbit when they walked in.

When she turned around, Carson and Guarnere were trying to sneak passed.

"Hey". Murphy whispered, getting up.

The four of them stopped.

"Listen, Murph". Guarnere whispered back, "they'll be gone in the morning".

Murphy looked at the two girls, "they're not sleeping in our room".

"Where should I put them?"

"I don't care". She said, "but they're not sleeping in our room, Bill Guarnere".

They ended up sleeping in their room.

Murphy decided to sleep on the couch that night.

In the morning, Buck wondered in the house.

"Murph". He whispered, shaking her awake.

She opened her eyes, "hey, sir".

"Peacock's coming".

Murphy nodded, not thinking of the girls in the house. "Inspection?"

"No – he knows about the Lily's".

"Oh, balls!"

Guarnere and Carson were in a panic.

They ended up finding a ceiling entry to a tiny attic and shoved the girls up there.

And then in walked Peacock.

"Are there girls here?"

"No, sir".

They both replied, while shoving empty beer bottles under the bed.

Of course, Peacock wasn't giving up.

Guarnere and Carson remained strong, thinking they had won this round.

Murphy was standing in the room, staring at them.

She wanted to laugh, so badly at this.

And Murphy almost lost it, when a single spike of a high heel shoe, punctured through the plastered ceiling.

By God, the moment was so beautiful. It was perfect.

And soon, her entire leg came through the ceiling.

Peacock was looking up.

Murphy had a hand across her mouth, muffling her laughter.

"What's that?" The 1st Lieutenant asked.

"It looks like a broad's leg to me, I have no idea what it is". Guarnere replied, sounding just as dumbfounded.

Murphy's shoulders were shaking. Tears were in her eyes.

Peacock looked back at him, "do you know what's going on?"

"No". He replied, stretching out the word. "I have no idea what's going on".

Peacock turned to face Murphy, "Sargent Flynn?"

Murphy sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I have no idea, sir".

And then, the leg disappeared.

The girl came into the room.

"Oh, Billie". She cooed.

Peacock was furious, "who's got the other girl?!"

"They're both mine". Guarnere stated.

Murphy was red in the race, laughing this silently should be a crime.

Peacock threw them out and gave Guarnere holy hell.

He was placed on KP duties, kitchen police.

Looks like Guarnere was peeling potatoes for his crimes.

However, when the Lieutenant left.

The whole house erupted into beautiful laugher.

However, not all moments were filled with joy.

Murphy decided to take a weekend into London with Malarkey, Toye, Muck and Grant.

They all wanted her to come along because they had found a great drinking spot.

It was quiet, they had their own room on the third floor.

She agreed to go in the end.

The Regent Palace was in Piccadilly Circus.

It was considered a large hotel, with three floors and two bars.

They all sat in their room, drinking.

Murphy wasn't drinking much, not after Edinburgh.

She had a couple of beers and one glass of whiskey, diluted with coke.

And did they not just rip into her for that.

At some point during the night, Toye left to take a leak.

But after not returning for fifteen-minutes, that sparked concern.

"He probably found a British girl". Grant said.

Which was probably true. Toye was built like an athlete. He was a good-looking guy.

But the minutes past and soon, Toye had been gone for thirty minutes.

Malarkey turned to Murphy, "let's go look for him".

She agreed easily and the pair left the room.

They checked the bathrooms first, Toye wasn't in them.

And they were turning to leave, when they heard a noise.

Malarkey spotted a window, which was slightly open.

Murphy pulled a face, watching him closely.

He poked his head out of the window and soon saw Toye.

He was climbing on the roof of an atrium. That thing was made of glass and fortified with chicken wire. It must have been strong because Toye weighed nearly two-hundred pounds. And worse yet, it was three stories high.

"What the hell are you doing out there, Joe?!" Malarkey soon yelled.

Murphy frowned and stood next to him.

Toye froze.

"Please, come on back".

They weren't sure if Toye was just drunk, or crazy. Maybe a little bit of both.

"Joe, come on, everybody's worried about you". Malarkey tried again.

Murphy was chewing on her bottom lip, hands rubbing together nervously.

It was tense and after Malarkey gradually coaxing him, Toye came back.

Her shoulders slumped in relief.

"Joe, what's going on?" Malarkey asked, in a very rare tender voice.

Murphy looked up at her old squad Sargent. And he looked ready to cry.

Joe went on about his childhood, how is dad forced him into the coalmines. Him not being able to read or speak as well as he thought he should. And by the end of it, he shed a few tears. Right in front of Malarkey and Murphy.

"The hell of it is, Malark". He said, "I fell like a 'friggin failure".

Malarkey shook his head, "you're no failure Toye, and you know it. I've seen how you gobbled up Currahee week after week. I saw how you fought on D-Day with no skin on your left arm. And how the guys look up to you".

Toye sniffed, "I might have gotten a scholarship and played football collage".

"And wound up right here, Joe". Malarkey told him, "like Buck Compton and the other collage football stars. Look, I'm not just blowing smoke when I say this, but you're the most admired man in Easy. Ask any of 'em, they'll tell you".

Toye brought his hand up to his face and wiped his eyes.

"Look, Joe, you didn't go to high school, hell – that's not your fault. You didn't have any choice. We all have things in our past we regret – people we regret – but you can't un-ring a bell".

"Tough times never last but tough people do". Murphy added softly.

Whatever Joe Toye was doing on that roof, Murphy and Malarkey were glad he came down.

It could have been like Aaron Keith again.

Might not have been but Murphy would keep eyes on Toye at all costs.

Toye stared at the pair of them and eventually nodded.

They headed back to the room.

Whether it was Malarkey's words or the booze wearing off, Toye had battled with something in his mind and agreed to come off from that ledge and go back to his friends.

"Don't tell Bill". Toye said to her.

"I won't tell anyone, pal".

That marked the day when Murphy realised just how compassionate Malarkey was.

He was one hell of a guy.


	18. Chapter 18

"Keep your head up! If you quit now, you've lost forever!"

God, training was getting intense.

Murphy had dedicated her time on getting their fitness levels up.

She should have gone on those runs with Winters.

Currently, Murphy was taking out her squad on a tough run.

They had covered three-miles, heading up a hill.

Murphy wanted them to go at it hard.

On top of running, she had put made sure they had 40kg of gear strapped to them.

Murphy had done the same. There was no point in giving out orders, if you couldn't do it yourself. And if they were in pain or tired, she was suffering along with them. They may have hated her, but they'd thank her for that run.

"Nelson! Keep going! If you run faster, you'll get there quicker!"

It was always rewarding when the squad helped each other out.

Hughes was often the one to give them a pep-talk after a hard day.

Nelson was still struggling.

Murphy hoped this run would help them bond together.

At the end of the run, Murphy let them head back to the barracks.

"You all did well". She said, "it matters to me that you made it up there".

"Thanks, Sarge".

Nelson didn't look very happy, "I'm letting you all down".

Murphy shook her head, "you're trying, Nelson. You're just not at your best yet but you'll get there. We just have to keep on going".

But that was a lie.

Nelson was too far behind. And Murphy knew he wasn't trying hard enough.

Jackson and Hughes had a lot to complain about Nelson.

"He doesn't talk to us". They told her, "he just sits by himself. He don't talk with anyone".

That was a red light for Murphy.

If Nelson wasn't coping well, then he'd crumble in combat.

The worst case, Nelson would end up getting them killed and himself.

She knew they were trying hard to get him involved.

And at the start, Nelson was involved. He went to London, shared laughs.

But something just changed dramatically with Nelson and Murphy didn't know what it is.

She just knew it wasn't good.

When she got back to the house, Murphy spotted Guarnere with the guys.

They were playing a round of craps, Buck was with them.

Rubbing her lips together, she walked inside the living room.

"Murph!" Grant grinned, "what the hell have you been doing?"

"Running – Bill?"

Guarnere looked over his shoulder, "what?"

"I need to talk with you".

"Sounds serious". Muck said, pulling a face, "everything good, Murph?"

She nodded, with a small smile. "Nosey – keep out of it, eh?"

The mood relaxed again.

It wasn't everyday Murphy asked for, "a talk".

Not unless someone clogged up the toilet.

The two of them walked into the kitchen and sat at the table.

Murphy placed her hands on the table, clasping them together.

Where as Guarnere leaned back against the chair, arms crossed.

"Okay – my lad, Nelson. We're having issues".

"What sort?" He asked, "he being an ass to you?"

Murphy shook her head, "no – I mean, he's great, you know? He's trying hard but…Bill, we could get dropped at any moment and I just don't think he's ready".

Sighing, Guarnere gave her a nod to go on.

"Jackson and Hughes are way in front of him, as far as fitness, decision making, and the likes are concerned. They're both sharp as hell, bright guys. And I really wanted Nelson to do well, Bill".

"He needs to go". He finished off, "can't be having a guy like that around here, Murph. Could get you guys killed. Don't want that".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy nodded. "I'll tell him".

Guarnere raised an eyebrow, "you 'wanna?"

"Yeah – he won't be happy either way but…better coming from me".

"I'll put Gordy in your squad". He said to her, "good kid, he'll keep the rest right".

It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

God, she knew Nelson wasn't cut out for this.

But just telling someone, it made her feel better.

Guarnere cleared his throat.

Murphy popped out of her thoughts.

"It ain't your fault, alright?" He told her, "this shit happens all the time. Some guys wash-out after getting their jump-wings, it happens".

Sighing, she unclasped her hands.

"Murph". He said, "quit it, you're breaking my fucking heart".

Her lips twitched, she looked back at him.

"You're doing a good fucking job". Guarnere said, "keep at it, alright? This ain't your fault".

Murphy soon smiled softly, "right, Bill".

Grinning, he reached over and clapped her shoulder.

After getting the all clear from Buck, Murphy approached Nelson the next morning.

They stayed around in the barrack, while everyone else left.

She sighed quietly, "Nelson…we've decided to let you go".

Nelson didn't look too phased.

"They're 'gonna send you back over to America, you'll begin training with the infantry".

The room was very thick with tension.

It felt awkward and made Murphy feel uncomfortable.

Though, she never did break eye contact with him.

"You've made it this far, training to be in the Airborne is tough. Despite this, you should feel proud of yourself. A lot of men couldn't achieve what you have achieved here".

Murphy continued to stare at him, waiting for any sort of reaction.

Nelson was looking past her, staring at the wall behind her shoulder.

She tilted her head to the side, "Nelson?"

He blinked, coming out from his daze.

Murphy swallowed, "alright?"

"Fine". Nelson responded, "I'll get my stuff".

She felt bad.

Murphy would have been devastated if they'd thrown her out.

But having Carson in her squad, it made things better.

Jackson and Hughes liked him, Carson liked them.

It was fine.

They had made the right choice in getting rid of Nelson.

She felt pretty rubbish, though training continued that day.

Having Carson by her side, it went very smoothly.

And she had a pretty strong squad.

Murphy got lucky and she was even more lucky to have Winters.

When the training day was over, she headed over to the Barnes's.

Welsh never questioned why she turned up, he must have known.

Mrs Barnes had supper made for everyone.

They'd all sit around the table, like a family and share their days events.

Like always, Elaine had a lot to say about school.

She never did mention Conor once, Murphy figured Elaine got rid of him.

And Mr Barnes brought up a wedding he was doing next week.

It was a couple who lived down the road, he guy was going off to fight and they wanted to tie the knot right then and there, in case something happened to him. She was pregnant, he didn't want them to be short on cash.

And then came the talk of training.

"How did he take it?" Welsh asked, regarding Nelson.

Murphy shook her head, "quietly, sir". She said, "didn't really say much".

"You told him?"

She nodded, "I did, sir. Figured it would be best coming from me".

After supper, Murphy and Winters went outside in the back garden.

It was a small garden but pretty, nonetheless.

Mr Barnes liked tending to his garden. He kept the flowers fresh, trimmed the hedges and mowed the grass. Winters did it sometimes as well, whenever Mr Barnes looked tired or complained of backache.

They held hands, while they walked around the freshly mowed grass.

"Don't feel bad, Murphy". Winters told her, "you've got a good squad".

Her lips twitched, "yeah…Gordy was a good idea".

He stopped walking and looked at her, "I'm sensing something is off".

Murphy frowned, looking back at him.

"You've been quiet". Winters commented softly, "couple of the men were wondering about you".

"Lieutenant Compton and Guarnere?"

He nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Will you tell me?"

Murphy sighed softly, "I don't want to lay my crap on you".

Winters smiled a little, "sweetheart, I love you. And what troubles you, I want to help".

"Right". She mumbled, "okay – do you remember our furlough in Benning?"

He thought back for a moment, "you came back with a black eye".

"I did".

"And you never told us who did it". Winters pointed out, eyebrows furrowing.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, an all known thing she did.

"My 'da".

His stomach filled with led.

"He's a bit of an arse-"

"a bit?" Winters sighed threw his nose. "He's the biggest ass I know".

Murphy blinked, "you just – you never curse".

"It was needed". He responded, almost threw gritted teeth.

Slightly shocked, she continued. "Well – eh – after that, I told my 'mam to leave with the boys. And they did, moved back to Limerick, lived with Granny. Well, Noah died and 'da's back in the picture". Murphy shook her head, "mam say's he was being nice and compassionate". She huffed out a laugh, which held no humour. "That man will never change, a tiger doesn't change his stripes, he'll never change". She then added, "I get it, right? Ma's feeling vulnerable and 'da sweeps in like he's just – just saved the 'fecking day".

Winters stared at her. He felt angry, concerned and heart broken all at once.

"All our life". Her voice quietened, "we just sat there, let him beat us into the ground. We just sat and watch the way he treated 'mam. And we couldn't do anything cause you know, we were scared. I was scared". Murphy whispered, "so scared…you wouldn't have believed it".

Now, he truly did feel his heart break.

"I let that bastard ruin us".

Winters pulled her into an embrace, pressing his lips on the top of her head.

She pressed her face into his chest, taking in a shuddering breath.

"He didn't deserve you or your family". He whispered, "because to deserve you, would make someone the luckiest person in the world. And for that, I will always be lucky to have you. And eternally grateful that you love me back". Winters held her tighter, "Noah loved you, he loves you still. Because those that love us, they never leave us".

Murphy placed her hands on his jacket, "love you". She mumbled quietly into his chest.

Winters frowned deepened, with a sad smile. "I love you too, sweetheart".

Pulling back, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm lucky".

Placing his hands on the sides of her face, their lips met.

The sun was setting, the moment was beautiful.

Though bittersweet, with thoughts winding around in her mind like twisted branches.

She had Winters, she had Easy and that's all Murphy could ever ask for.

Her heart could have burst right out of her chest.

Winters was everything and more.

And Murphy wanted to spend the night with him.

But of course, that wasn't allowed.

So, it was another kiss goodbye and a fond farewell to the Barnes, Elaine and Welsh.

Murphy got back to the house, feeling like a weight had yet again, been lifted.

Some of the guys were already asleep.

Toye hadn't made it to bed, he was sleeping on the couch.

Murphy took the blanket from the armchair and placed it across him.

Smiling, she left Toye alone and wondered up the stairs.

Things were going to be okay.

She opened one of the bedroom doors, peeking inside the room.

They were asleep. Murphy checked her watch, it was almost eleven.

She had stayed out later than expected.

Quietly, she crept into the bedroom.

"Where've you been?"

Murphy jumped a little.

Guarnere sat up from the bottom bunk, "huh?"

Shaking her head, she sat on the edge of her bed. "Thinking". Murphy replied, while she took off her jacket. "Sorting things out to do with Nelson".

"Wanna drink over it?"

Murphy snorted, "with you? I'd get more tattoos".

Guarnere grinned, "speaking of…I already got one, figured I might as well get two more".

She chuckled quietly, "you're 'fecking mad, Bill".

"Hey – they don't call me Wild Bill for nothing, sister".

…

One morning, Murphy woke up with a note stuck to her head.

But it didn't stop there.

She had around sixteen bars of soap in her bed.

Murphy frowned and sat up, more bars fell on the ground.

Looking down, she saw soap mapped out on the carpet.

What the hell was this?

Murphy reached for the note on her forehead;

"Happy birthday, you ass!"

Smiling now, Murphy picked up a bar of soap.

She almost forget it was her birthday, July the 31st. She was twenty-one now.

Twenty-one bars of soap.

Murphy hoped they were cleaning that all up.

It was a practical joke, thought out by Luz.

Due to the fact that she washed her hands with whiskey out in Normandy.

Luz was an ass but a genius.

Where did they get all the soap?

"We borrowed them". Guarnere told her, when she walked into the kitchen.

"Borrowed, right". Murphy smirked, "you stole them, you arse".

Toye clapped her shoulder, "happy birthday, Murph".

Everyone was very sweet on her that morning.

They made her breakfast, shinned her boots and even made her bed.

Murphy didn't have to lift a finger that morning.

It was brilliant.

However, it was a Monday, training had to go on.

They couldn't take over her squad, as much as she would have loved the day off.

Murphy couldn't get used to being so pampered.

She decided to go over some manuals with them that day.

Manuals came in different informative books.

Murphy didn't read them enough.

Guarnere did and Winters went over the manuals like he attended church.

Religiously.

It was useful to learn and get familiar with all the guns they used, not just their M1s.

The good thing about these manuals, they were supplied with many of them.

It was like being back at school again.

And after two hours of doing nothing but reading and asking questions.

They were glad when Murphy told them to change into their PT gear for a run.

"40kg on your back too". She added, before leaving the barracks.

Murphy smiled when she left the barrack.

What a devil.

The training day ended at six that night, Murphy was heading back to the house.

"Sargent Flynn!"

Turning around, she spotted Vest racing towards her.

"Urgent, just came in".

Murphy sighed, this couldn't be good. "Thanks, Vest".

He smiled, "happy birthday, by the way".

That made her smile, "thanks, pal – see you around".

Opening the envelope, she unfolded the letter.

It was a terribly drawn map of Aldbourne, with an X drawn where she needed to be.

Murphy grinned, Winters did this.

And it didn't take her long to figure out where the X on the map was.

Murphy reached the church in under ten-minutes.

Winters was standing by their bench, waiting for her.

Opening the gate, she started walking up the winding path and towards him.

He was smiling at her, hands behind his back. "I see you've found me".

"You're terrible at drawing".

Winters chuckled, "I agree".

Smiling, Murphy stood before him.

The sky was engulfed with orange and red, the sun was setting. And the archway had purple, white and pink flowers, instead of red roses. This spot truly was wonderful and just as magical as it was the first time, she discovered it.

"Turn around". Winters instructed her softly.

Murphy turned his back to him and soon felt something cool against her neck.

Looking down, she saw it was a golden chain. A necklace.

At the end of the chain, sitting perfectly by her second button on her jacket, was a golden horse shoe.

Murphy truly did love it.

"I'm the lucky one". Winters said.

Murphy turned back around to face him.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart".

Grabbing his collar, she pulled their faces close together. "I love you".

Their lips met in a glorious passion.

Murphy could have sworn fireworks were going off behind her.

"One day, I'm going to show the whole world how lucky I am". Winters told her, while his hands were placed on the side of her face.

She smiled adoringly at him, running her fingers through his hair.

"Now, Miss Flynn". He cleared his throat, "I have a surprise for you".

Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck, "what?"

Grinning, Winters picked her up.

"Hey!"

He chuckled, "right this way".

The surprise was inside the church, which was lit up with large candles.

In the centre, was a blanket with a basket of food.

It was inviting, warm and utterly romantic.

Winters carefully set her down.

"I'm impressed". Murphy whispered, looking around the room. "Very nice".

Taking her hand, they walked down the aisle and towards their indoor picnic.

She sat down, Winters sat down opposite her.

Mrs Barnes had obviously packed this meal.

There was no way Winters would have found the time to do this.

Murphy never questioned this, she was just happy to be with him.

It soon started to rain, the water dripped onto the roof and it echoed throughout the church. Murphy looked away from the high ceiling and faced the food again. She then started to tell him about the soap, which he found funny.

"They even cleaned up".

"Good". Winters smirked, "did they use the soap?"

Murphy chuckled, "no, that was my gift".

When she was finished with eating, Murphy got onto her feet.

She was staring at a candle, watching the flames flicker with the small draft coming in from under the door. Licking her bottom lip, she placed her hand above the flame.

"This is lovely". Murphy whispered, "can we count this as our first date?"

"No". Winters smiled, "I liked the burnt chicken one".

Smiling softly, she sighed in content. "Me too".

Winters was looking at her, gaze as soft as ever.

"You look like an angel".

Murphy swallowed and turned around.

He got onto his feet and walked over to her, "why is it, Murphy Flynn, that you grow more beautiful each day?"

Her lips twitched, "ma's side of the family?"

Smiling, Winters took her hands into his. "Please, thank her for me".

Murphy gave a tiny nod, "I will".

Taking her hands, he placed them behind her neck. Winters then took hold of her waist.

"Are we dancing now, Captain?"

He nodded, moving them slowly from side to side.

Murphy sighed softly, playing with the ends of his hair. "I'm not a dancer".

"You're doing good so far". He said, "I think you've passed this phase".

"Can I kiss you in a church?"

Winters pulled an amused smile, "well…I think a lot of people kiss in a church, Murphy".

She huffed out a tiny laugh, "you know what I mean".

Giving her a tiny nod, he pulled her closer to him.

Winters placed his hands on the side of her face.

Murphy gripped the back of his hair, and they kissed in the church.

This was her favourite birthday, nothing could have made it more special.

Dancing in a church, being with the one you loved most in this world.

And being around friends who knew what would make you laugh the most.

The whole world was right, even if they were in a world of wrong.

Winters walked her back to the house at around eleven.

Like last time, Murphy had to creep inside the house, so she wouldn't wake her friends.

They were all fast asleep, Mondays were always the most tiring.

While making her way to the bathroom, Murphy quietly crept across the wooden flooring, not wanting to wake up her friends. She opened the bathroom door, turned on the light and looked in front of her.

When the whole world fell apart.

Nelson was standing there.

He was still in uniform, with this twisted and sickening smile.

It sent a chill down your spine, those were the smiles that didn't belong on any human.

Murphy was shocked and she couldn't move.

Why was he here?

When he stepped towards her, Murphy took a step back.

But Nelson had a gun, which he raised.

Placing a finger towards his lips, he shook his head.

"No talking". He whispered.

His eyes were wide, energetic and glassy.

Murphy was beginning to feel terrified.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping it tightly.

"No talking, Murphy".

He sounded insane. He was crazy.

And he wasn't drunk, Nelson was sober.

Murphy clenched her jaw. If he didn't have that gun, she would punch him and scream the house up. Her friends were next door and across the hall. If they knew what was happening, it would have been dealt with as quick as you could blink. But he had a gun, and right now, Murphy knew he would use it.

Nelson's hand left her shoulder and he gripped her chin.

Her face screwed up into disgust.

"I'm going to kill you". He said to her, "because you killed me".

Murphy looked back at him, "you're not dead, you got kicked out because you can't do it".

Nelson looked angry now, and he slapped her across the cheek.

She's had a lot worse than a slapped cheek.

"You're all weak". Nelson told her, "all of you. I was too clever".

Murphy shook her head, "you're wrong, Nelson. And you're upset, I understand".

His hand was now around her neck, though not tightly.

And the gun was placed on her temple.

This was it. This was how she was going to die.

Not in combat, not beside the man she loved.

But in a bathroom, with a guy she had to drop because he couldn't keep up.

Murphy felt a lump form in her throat.

It was sad, really. She was going to leave so much behind.

And she'd never live with Winters on that plot of land.

Their little corner of the universe, it was going to be pulled away from her so quickly.

So many moments she had dreamed of, she'd never bring them into reality.

Murphy's eyes slipped shut.

She tried to imagine that farm with Winters.

Being his wife, cooking a chicken properly.

Having friends by her side.

A tear slid down her face.

And the gun clocked.

But it didn't have to be over.

Murphy opened her eyes, staring at him.

With one quick move, she brought her knee up towards his groin.

Nelson huffed out a painful breath and got onto the ground.

Wiping the tear from her face, she reached down and picked up the gun.

And then, she screamed.

"Guys!"

Murphy had never screamed so loud in her life.

Everyone was up and rushing around like crazy.

She could hear the footsteps, her friends crashing into each other.

The bathroom door opened, Guarnere stepped in first.

He looked from Murphy, to Nelson, who was curled up into a ball, in agony.

Murphy dropped the gun and wrapped her arms around Guarnere.

He was in a state of shock, though wrapped one arm around her.

"Get that piece of shit out of my face, before I fucking kill him!" Toye yelled.

Lipton and Grant barged into the bathroom and grabbed Nelson.

He stared up at Murphy, "you're fucking dead, Murphy!"

Toye pushed past everyone and kicked Nelson from under the chin.

"If I see you again, I'll skin you".

Word got around quickly, Buck and Winters soon ran into the house.

Murphy was sitting on the couch, Malarkey was next to her.

She had a blanket wrapped around her and his arm.

It took Winters every ounce of willpower not to pull Murphy into his arms. Though he did crouch in front of her and placed a hand on her knee. Her eyes met his and he broke into a thousand pieces on the inside.

"It's taken care of". He said to her softly, "you're 'gonna be okay".

Murphy shuddered, "thanks, sir".

Malarkey rubbed her arm, "he wasn't right, Murph. I think tonight proves why we had to get rid of him".

She gave him a tiny nod.

Malarkey was right, if it wasn't her, it might have been Gordy, Jackson, Hughes – anyone.

God, that was a disturbing thought.

"Some fucking birthday, huh?" Toye muttered from the back.

She shook her head, "I had a lovely birthday". She whispered, "Nelson can't take that away from me".

Winters gave her the smallest of smiles.

"How the hell did he get in the house?" Guarnere was pissed about that, "we didn't leave a window open, we locked all the doors".

Murphy looked up, "that little window on the roof, maybe?"

Buck ran a hand down his face, "I'm boarding that up".

Winters thought back. He was about to get into bed, when there came a series of knocks on the front door. He answered it, Buck was on the other side, looking panicked and wide eyed.

"There's been a situation, Murphy almost got shot".

He had never run so fast in his life, Winters was in his night clothes.

They all were.

Murphy sighed quietly and rubbed the back of her neck, "I'm alright". She said, "not dead or hurt. Just got a shock, that's all".

She looked away from the ceiling and back at Winters.

With their eyes locked together, no one else was present in the room.

The world would soon be right.

And within his eyes, Murphy could almost see that farm.

For right now, she was alive.

The other days were uncertain.


	19. Chapter 19

"The night was filled with dark and cold.

When Sargent Talbert's stories told.

Pulled out his poncho and headed out.

To check the lines dressed as a Kraut".

"I don't like this…".

"Upon a trooper our hero came.

Fast asleep, he called his name.

Smith, oh Smith, get up, it's time.

To take your turn out on the line.

Private Smith, so very weary.

Cracked an eye all red and bleary.

Grabbed his rifle and did not tarry.

Hearing Floyd but seeing Jerry".

Murphy grinned, while the others laughed.

"It's me! Cried Tab, don't do it! And yet.

Smith charged tout-de-suite with bayonet.

He lunged, he thrust both high and low.

And skewed the boy from Kokomo!

And as they carried him away.

Our punctured hero was heard to say.

When in this war you venture out.

Best never do it dressed as a Kraut!"

Everyone cheered and applauded Smokey and Paul Rogers for their poem.

And on top of that, they awarded Floyd a purple hurt.

"Since you weren't wounded by the enemy and thus didn't qualify for a purple heart, we've taken matters into our own hands. Tab, this is for you".

They all cheered again.

"I could have shot the kid a dozen times!" Floyd exclaimed.

"Yeah, right". Liebgott smirked.

Smokey and Rodgers decided to hold a ceremony for Floyd.

But before they could give him the purple heart, they had to embarrass him a little first.

They were always writing poems, if something strange or comical happened, trust those two to embarrass you in front of the entire Company with a giftedly worded poem. And that day, the whole of Easy were present, even the officers came along for the ceremony.

Good old Smokey and Rogers, making a potentially bad situation, light and humorous.

It was good to have them back, though they were still missing Popeye.

That man couldn't leave the hospital yet.

They wondered if he'd ever get out.

The last replacement to join easy was a kid called James Miller, who was assigned to Bull's squad. Apparently, from what Heffron told them, he thought he was already one of the guys and had grabbed the bunk near the door. Heffron thought he was cocky at first but after what happened on his first night, he ended up liking the guy.

"What happened on the first night?" Murphy had asked.

Heffron laughed before he answered, "that same drunken piss-head, pissed on the kid. Miller screamed, couple of guys grabbed the piss-head and I told Miller, if a bird shits on you, or a dog pisses on your leg, that's good luck. Told him he's 'gonna hit the number today and he'll make it through the war without a scratch!"

Who knew peeing on a replacement, could form friendships?

As of right now, it was August and they were in Membury.

They had a jump called-off recently and were expecting to head back into Aldbourne.

Easy were billeted in stables, this place was famous for its horse racing before the war. And all the horses were out in paddocks, the owners decided to accommodate soldiers who were set to leave for combat. They used to race-track as their marshalling land.

That was going to be costly to replace. Murphy wondered if the track would ever be the same again because the Brits sure loved their horse racing and horses. The horses were beautiful, Murphy had gone off to see them during free time. She and Dukeman went, that guy lived on a ranch, he breathed the animals. Dukeman adored horses.

But as such, sitting around in this barn after a good poem, Lipton took the stage next.

"Couple of announcements to make". He said, "first – listen up!"

Everyone quietened down, looking at Lipton.

"First, the training exercise scheduled for 2200 hours has been cancelled".

They all seemed happy about that.

"Oh, yeah!" Muck cheered the loudest.

"Secondly". Lipton continued, "all passes are hereby revoked".

Their faces fell. Here came another drop.

"We're heading back to France, so pack up all your gear. We will not be returning to England". His voice lowered a little, "anyone who has not made out a Will, go to the supply office. Trucks depart from Membury at 0700. As you were".

The thing is, some guys were eager to get back in.

Replacements, they just wanted a jump star. No shame in that. Combat stars were a big deal. All the Toccoa guys had one, all the Normandy vets, the replacements wanted one too.

But for the Normandy veterans, it was like a punch in the gut for some.

Another drop, watching your friends get blown up, shot and die.

No showers, no hot meals, sleeping outdoors.

The craziest adventure of their lives.

Murphy looked over at her squad.

Hughes looked eager, Carson and Jackson, not so much.

"We serious this time?" Toye asked them.

"Just have to wait and see". Grant replied.

She turned back to face her friends at the table.

"Your boy looks happy enough". Bull pointed out to her.

Murphy shook her head, "just ignore him. He wants a star".

Hughes and Jackson got along well with Bull's boys. They all went off to London together one time during a weekend pass and from then, they spent most of their time together. Murphy liked Bulls squad. Nice guys, really sharp. Miller was a lot harder to shape, according to Bull. But he soon straightened him out.

"How old is he, Murph?" Malarkey asked.

She sighed, "eighteen".

"Jesus". Muck whispered.

"Yup – think I've got the youngest".

"Nah, you ain't". Martin told her, "I got a guy who's seventeen".

A few of them flinched at that.

"Just kids". Malarkey shook his head.

"I swear to God, if this jump gets cancelled, I'm 'gonna eat my own fucking arm".

The jump did get cancelled, just as they were heading into the plane.

Looks like Guarnere was eating his own arm now.

Patton and his 3rd army overran it the drop zone and liberated the town outside of Paris.

General Patton was one of the most feared military commanders the American's had.

The Germans were terrified of him.

Patton's army moved fast, captured entire divisions. Probably killed more Germans than any other unit.

Guarnere called him nuts.

And he was probably right, like always.

So, they spent the night in Membury, planning to move back into Aldbourne the next day.

Guarnere had put Grant and Heffron on guard duty, outside a shed where their chutes were stored. It was a boring task, Murphy had Jackson had to do it last time. Everyone seemed happy about the drop being called off, which surprised Murphy, she figured the replacements were eager to get stuck in. But then again, that was all just talk.

She was walking past the storing shed and saw Grant and Heffron walk away from it.

Jogging to catch up, Murphy grabbed Grant's jacket sleeve.

"Where are you going?"

He shrugged, "pub – 'wanna come?"

Murphy stared at him for a moment, "yeah, alright".

The pub was packed with English troops, who were either leaving or just coming back.

Women were there as well, mainly with those Brits.

Didn't seem to bother Grant, though.

Grant was a good-looking guy, he wore his hat sideways, so it was hanging over one ear.

He looked like a movie-star.

And Grant loved many things in life, women, beer – all lives pleasures.

It didn't matter if your girl was married to you, Grant would hit on her.

And oh boy, did he not just hit on the prettiest married girl that night.

Heffron and Murphy were just staring at him, because the husband was right beside them, giving Grant a glare that threatened to reach for his gun and shoot that dirty rat. They both found it funny. Grant was always making them laugh.

"He won't punch him". Murphy told Heffron, "he knows Grants better looking".

He chuckled, "yeah…even the married broads, they don't stand a chance".

"Bill's 'gonna raise hell if he finds out".

Heffron looked at her.

She smirked, "I won't say". Murphy said, "I'd get hell too for allowing it to happen".

"Scary guy, huh?"

"Bill?" She mumbled, "he's not scary, not unless you give him a reason to be".

"He's a good guy, Murph". Heffron said, "so's that rat". He said, nodding towards Grant.

Murphy chuckled, "yeah…put Chuck and Bill together, then you've got some trouble".

The next morning, they left Membury and headed back to the village.

They were all happy to be back inside their roof-thatched house once again.

Murphy had missed her bunk-bed.

On the afternoon they got back, they had another transfer join Easy.

David Webster, college -boy, well spoken and bright as a button.

The guys liked him, he was in 1st Platoon. And because he was in Toccoa, though in Fox Company, Webster didn't have to worry about finding his feet, he already knew what he was doing. He just needed to make a few buddies.

It was getting tense again.

Everyone was anticipating the next drop.

And after having a few cancelled, it just added to the tension.

Murphy spent most of her time taking apart her rifle with her squad.

They didn't seem to mind the task. It helped keep their minds busy.

"What'd you think, Jack?" Hughes asked with a grin, "think I got it?"

"You best fucking have it". He grumbled, "if you can't put your rifle back together, you're screwed".

Murphy cleared her throat, "that's enough, come on".

Carson smirked and gave her arm a nudge, "how long do you think I'll be in your squad for?"

"For a long time". She said, "why? Are they promoting you?"

"I hope so". He said, "all the Toccoa guys are NCO's now".

Murphy shook her head, "Cobb isn't, McClung isn't a Sargent either".

"She'd let you get away with murder".

Sighing, she shook her head. "Hughes, go outside and run around the stables six times".

They were all getting tense.

Guarnere had given her many of talks on how to handle the squad out in combat.

"Keep them tight, don't fucking lose them. And don't get lost yourself".

It was sound advice and seemed easy enough to follow.

If only Murphy knew what lay ahead for them all, she'd have planned things differently.

Being a squad leader in training was the easiest thing in the world.

Out there in combat, it was to be her greatest test.

They weren't handing out weekend passes anymore, during the rest of their days in Aldbourne it was training and lazy weekends in the village. But you know by now, the men aren't fond of lazy days. They headed down to one of the two pubs, played darts, talked shit and tried to forget about the tension.

Murphy had figured now that they weren't in London, they wouldn't get into trouble.

But she was wrong, once again.

"Murph".

Her eyes opened, it was Grant.

Sighing, Murphy sat up and reached for her jacket. "Who's in jail?"

"Your boy, he got into a fight".

"Oh, 'fecking hell". Murphy hurriedly put on her boots. "Who?"

"Hughes". Grant told her, "we were in the pub, some Limey started on him. Kid almost killed him, Murph. The MP's have 'em".

The Military Police.

Well, that wasn't going to be good.

Murphy and Grant began walking down the stairs.

"How bad is he?"

"Not a scratch on the kid". He sounded impressed, "good fighter".

Murphy sighed, while she opened the front door. "Chuck, I'm going to get hell for this".

"Don't worry about that". He said to her, "Winters will take care of it".

Jason Hughes wasn't behind bars, he was locked up in a room in Battalion.

In order for Murphy to get her replacement back, she had to pay twenty dollars.

And give him a punishment for his crime.

She wasn't happy with Hughes, but she was glad to see that he was okay.

And Hughes was alright, though maybe a little angry that he was being locked-up.

"It was his fault-"

"Hughes, be quiet". She told him.

Winters and Buck had arrived shortly after.

The four of them were standing outside the room Hughes had been locked in.

Murphy was a little nervous.

"How do you plan on punishing him?" Buck asked her.

She looked over at Hughes, who hung his head in shame.

God, now she just felt bad for the kid.

"His aggression needs to be controlled". Murphy said, "I'll see to it that it is".

She put him on latrine duties for three days.

And they went on a long run with full gear and equipment.

Murphy stuck by him, Carson and Jackson joined in as well.

When they finished the run, she ordered him to give her fifty push-ups.

And it was touching, when everyone from the squad participated.

Murphy worked them hard and she didn't stop until eight that evening.

Hopefully, Hughes learned his lesson.

"Being aggressive is what every trooper needs to have". She told him, "but by using this". Murphy placed her finger on his forehead, "and listening to this". She placed another finger on his stomach, "they'll tell you when to turn that aggression off".

"You're a great Sargent". Hughes said to her, "I'm sorry I let you down".

Murphy shook her head, "Hughes, you've only ever made me proud. You feel like you've let me down, that's something you have to deal with. And to make it right, you have to start listening to that voice in your head, the right voice".

He smiled, "alright, Sarge".

Murphy ruffled his hair, "get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning".

Getting up from his bed, she stood before her squad.

"Is everyone snug as a bug?"

They chuckled quietly.

"Why do you do this every night, Sarge?" Carson grinned, "it's fucking degrading".

She smirked, "you remember back in Toccoa? We weren't used to people telling us when to go to bed, when to eat – all that?"

"Yeah….".

"Well, I figured they could have been nicer about it".

Carson laughed, "right! Like Sobel would have ever been nice about it".

Murphy straightened herself out, "if you're not asleep within ten minutes, I'll make sure every last one of you digs me up six holes each, got it?"

"Yes, Sarge!"

Her lips twitched, she turned off the light.

"I'll be watching". Murphy whispered, before leaving the stables.

As she was making her way back, Winters was leaning against a wall outside someone's house. He was smiling, arms to the side and looking as casual as ever.

Murphy chuckled and walked over to him, "evening, Captain".

"Sargent Flynn".

His hands were soon in hers.

"How's Private Hughes?"

"He's fine". Murphy said, "I think he learned his lesson".

Winters leaned down and kissed her.

"Good". He said, "no court martial was needed".

Murphy raised an eyebrow, "I didn't realise it was being processed".

Winters sighed, "I tied some strings, got him out".

She smiled and kissed him, "thank you".

He let go of her hands and wrapped them around her waist, "notice something about the house behind me?"

Murphy leaned to the side, checking the house out. "Nope. Just looks like a house".

"It's empty". Winters whispered into her ear, "let's go inside".

Taking his hand again, he led her up towards the house and opened the front door.

Inside, the fire was on, with a blanket placed in front.

Candles were scattered at random around the living room, turning the room into an orange glow. There were even purple petals around the rug. As well as a bottle of lemonade and two wine glasses.

Murphy huffed softly, "what is this?"

Winters led her over to the rug, "it's a surprise".

"Well…I'm definitely surprised, Dick".

Standing behind her, he gently took her hair out of the bun.

And it curled down slowly.

Pushing her locks over one shoulder, Winters pressed light kisses on her neck.

Murphy closed her eyes, while one hand touched his neck.

She tugged on the end of his hair and he spun her around, so they were facing each other.

Looking at him, she traced her fingers across his cheek and jaw.

Winters took her face into his hands, and their lips came crashing together.

It was filled with burning heat and passion.

He took off her jacket, she unbuttoned his shirt.

Their clothes fell down by their feet.

Winters grabbed her waist and picked her up, she wrapped her legs around him.

Up against the wall now, the kiss broke apart.

They both panted, staring at each other.

"Murphy". He whispered.

"Dick". The words were uttered so softly and quietly.

Winters kissed her again.

She locked her arms around his neck.

The kiss was deep, while his fingers trailed down her chest and towards his stomach.

Murphy broke apart from the kiss, biting down on her lip.

He kissed her neck again and she gripped the ends on his hair.

It was always amazing how quick they went from talking, to kissing, to making love.

No matter how many times it happened, it always felt as good or better than the last.

Murphy was always surprised how no one had caught them.

But then again, they were sneaky and professional when it came to being around the others. And her friends had no idea. Murphy had thought about telling them, but she loved loving Winters like this, because these moments were always so intense and passionate.

Her nails dug into the skin on his back, legs tightening against his waist.

It would never get boring and it would never stop feeling amazing.

They ended up on the rug, lying down by the fire. Winters had his arms around her, her head laid on his chest, while he played with her hair. The fire crackled against the logs, the petals lay carelessly on the side of Murphy's body, dipping into her waist and hip bones.

"We're leaving, aren't we?"

Winters sighed softly, "I wanted to be close with you, just in case".

Her lips turned up into a smile, while she drew circles on his chest.

He kissed the top of her hair, "how are you feeling about another drop?"

"Fine". Murphy responded quietly.

He smiled, "always fine, huh? You haven't changed your manor towards combat".

"Gordy wants a promotion". She mumbled, "said he's the only Private from Toccoa".

Winters frowned a little, "he isn't".

"That's what I told him". Murphy said, "he's really good with Hughes and Jack, I'll give him that".

"Would you recommend him for a promotion?"

"No". Murphy said, "I want him in my squad".

Winters smiled, "well, if he wasn't?"

She sighed, "yup – promote the jammy arse". Murphy sat up a little, facing him. "That night when Nelson almost got me…".

His face soon turned serious.

"I was sad to be leaving you behind". She whispered, "you and Easy. And I thought I was 'gonna die, so I started thinking about our farm".

His lips twitched slightly.

"And the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I could probably get out of this". Murphy told him, while pushing his hair back. "So, I kicked him in the balls".

A huff of laughter burst out from Winters lips.

Murphy smiled, "grabbed his gun and screamed".

He sighed, "you're wonderful, Murphy".

She kissed him softly on the lips, "I know". Murphy then said, "and I was scared when it happened but more sad than anything else".

Winters tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I was terrified". He said, "I'm just glad we got rid of him".

Murphy rested her head against his chest again, "me too, love".

…

September brought cooler weather to Aldbourne.

On this particular night, the majority of Easy were inside one of the pubs.

Warm beer was passed around, women were being chatted up and a darts game between Buck and Heffron sparked interest to some of the men. Murphy had been dragged up by Guarnere to witness this impeccable match. Honestly, Malarkey would have made a more interesting game. That guy was great at darts.

Buck was giving it the collage try, playing bluff.

He was right handed, though used his left hand to make Heffron believe he was winning. Playing bad deliberately, what a fly-fox their Lieutenant was. Luz was there to cheer him on, while Toye encouraged Heffron to keep doing good.

Murphy was on no one's side.

"You were right". She told Martin and Bull, "this beer is shite – why is it warm?"

Martin grinned, "barrels warm".

Murphy shook her head, pulling a disgusted face. "I can't be having that in my belly". She put the beer down on a table, "it's like drinking warm coke. Just not how it's meant to be".

"Well, your majesty". Martin said with a dramatic sigh, "want something else?"

She chuckled quietly, "no, I'm alright".

"What'd your boys say about your tattoo?"

"Johnny, we said not to bring that up".

Martin chuckled, "hey, we're all in this together now, huh?"

Murphy smiled, "they said it looked good and proper".

"Bet they took you serious a lot, huh?"

She pulled a face, "because of a tattoo?"

"Nah, I heard you gave them all kinds of hell". Martin said, "they look pretty happy now".

Murphy sighed, "well…Nelson's gone, so, yeah – they are".

No one brought up Nelson much, it got them too angry.

Bull clenched his jaw, "that ass".

"Yup". She mumbled.

Guarnere soon came over with a couple of beers.

"You're embarrassing the Lieutenant". He told Heffron, "here, have a drink".

"Ah – don't mind if I do, Sarge". Heffron responded smoothly, taking the pint.

"Better start winning money soon". Guarnere told him, "I think your buddies are starting to miss you".

He was referring to Miller, Garcia and Hashey. Who were sitting at the table, in front of them.

"Yeah, they do look kind of sad, don't they?"

Murphy tutted softly, "hold your tongue, Babe".

"They're just serious fighting men is all". Bull said.

And Murphy didn't know if he was serious or not.

"Well, I think I'm 'gonna introduce myself". Guarnere said, moving passed them to sit at the table.

"Be careful what you say now. Don't take much to set my guys off".

"Yeah, you got some wide-eyed killers right there, Bull". Martin wasn't serious.

Murphy smiled a little, facing Guarnere now.

He had sat himself down, as if he was interviewing them.

Not he other way around.

"Hey, fellas". He said, "what'd you hear, what'd you say?"

"Uh, actually, that's Babe's seat". Hashey said, "Private Heffron's".

"Is that right?" Guarnere mused, "I don't care if it's fucking Eisenhower's".

Murphy grinned.

Oh, he was going at it hard already.

He gave Miller a nod, "who're you?"

"Private Miller. James Miller. I'm in Sargent Randleman's squad".

"Us too. I'm Les Hashey".

"Tony-"

"Garcia, I know". Guarnere said, with a tiny sigh. "Old Gonorrhoea don't miss a thing".

Murphy chuckled quietly, while Martin smiled.

"So, Heffron tell you about Doris yet?"

The three of them shook their heads.

"No". Hashey responded.

"No? Well, then I'm 'gonna educate you". Guarnere told them, "we're getting ready to get on the plane for that first fucking town we never jumped into. All of a sudden, Heffron stops dead in his tracks. Bing and a bang and a boom, everybody's banging into each other and everything. Heffron's just staring up at the nose of the plane, because on it, is painted this beautiful pin-up. Written underneath; Darling Doris. Doris just happens to be the name of that skirt, who just that day sent Babe on of them letters. You know the-". Guarnere looked over to the left, "Web, what do you call them letters that the broads send?"

Webster looked up from his book, "Dear John Letter".

Guarnere nodded and turned back to face them, "that's it. A Dear Babe Letter".

Murphy chuckled with the rest.

"Anyway, lucky for Babe, Patton's army overruns the drop zone. Mission cancelled. In other words, Babe don't have to risk getting inside old Doris again".

The replacements got a kick out of that.

"Hey, Bull". Guarnere looked over his shoulder, "your squad listens up real good".

"Yeah, they're just being polite". Martin said, "like whenever Bull opens his mouth".

"Johnny, what're you saying? Bull's boys are just humouring him?"

"Yeah, like whenever he gives out some of his folksy wisdom from back on the farm".

Guarnere barked out a laugh, "probably thinks he's a fucking hayseed. Ain't that right?"

The three replacements laughed.

Martin glared at Miller, "what are you laughing at?"

And Miller's grin was wiped right off his face.

Guarnere looked at the three of them again, "you new boys…you pay attention to Sargent Randleman. Got that? That's the smartest man in the Company".

He got up, leaving the replacements alone.

But they weren't alone for long.

Cobb soon leaned over them, "where'd you get that?" He asked Miller.

"It's the Presidential Distinguished Until Citation". Miller responded, "for -uh – for what the Regiment did in Normandy".

"That's right". He said, voice thick with malice. "For what the Regiment did. You weren't there".

"Hey, hey". Hoobler grabbed his shoulder, "ease up, Cobb. It's a Unit Citation".

Murphy frowned and watched as Miller took off the Citation.

He placed it neatly on the table, before getting up.

After making brief eye contact with Bull, he left.

Murphy sighed, that wasn't right.

Bull walked over to the table and picked up the badge, "shit, Cobb. You didn't fight in Normandy, neither".

When Bull walked off, Cobb then added.

"I got hit on the plane before I got the chance to jump".

True, but he still didn't need to be an ass about it.

Murphy was all about being hard on the replacements, but they should always remain fair.

Once upon a time, they were new to all of this too.

And if they died first, at least they'd die knowing they were apart of a great Company.

That's why Murphy liked them.

Clearing her throat, she pulled back the chair and sat opposite them.

They both stared at her, probably wondering what was to be said next.

"Hi". Murphy breathed out, with a sheepish smile.

Hashey raised an eyebrow, "Sargent Flynn?"

She pursed her lips together, "is Miller okay?"

Garcia quickly nodded.

"Alright, good". Murphy gave them a brief smile, "so, you and my squad, you get along well?"

"Really good, Sarge". Hashey replied. "They around?"

"Yes, they're – uh". Murphy looked around the pub, she spotted them in the corner.

Carson was downing a pint, while Jackson and Hughes cheered him on.

"You know, it doesn't really matter". She turned back to face them.

It was a quiet evening, well, it was meant to be.

Murphy had warned them not to go at it hard.

She rubbed the back of her neck, "anyway…".

Garcia leaned in, "is this about the fight?"

Murphy frowned a little. "With Hughes?"

He nodded, "yeah, we were there, Sarge".

Clearing her throat, she placed an arm on the table. "He beat that guy up?"

Garcia snorted, "yeah, he almost killed him".

"How?"

He sighed, "took three guys to get Jason off the Brit".

Murphy leaned back against the chair, "it's fine, we've dealt with it. Won't be happening again".

"Hey, yawl! Listen up!" Smokey soon called out, "I got us an announcement to make!"

Everyone quietened down and turned to face him.

"This here, is Carwood Lipton".

"He's already married, Smokey!" Malarkey called back.

Everyone laughed at that.

"This here is Carwood Lipton, the new Easy Company 1st Sargent!"

The entire room exploded into cheers and applause's.

"Go Carwood!" Dukeman yelled.

"As befitting his position, he says he has an announcement to make".

Lipton took a step forward, "well, I hate to break the mood here, boys, but we're moving out again".

For real?

Murphy blinked and looked behind her, eyes searching for Guarnere.

When they made eye contact, he shrugged.

Well, if he didn't know, no one in this room would.

If this turned out to be another close call, Murphy would eat everyone's arm.


	20. Chapter 20

On September the 10th, Easy were back in Membury and they were locked in the marshalling area once again, for another objective. This time, they all had a feeling it was the real deal. Some didn't, some thought they'd be back in Aldbourne by the next day. But the majority felt a sense of familiarity when those gates shut behind them.

Just like in Upottery.

In many ways, it was similar to the days leading up to Normandy.

But in other ways, it was different.

Murphy was a Sargent now, she had to make sure her squad knew the objective and learn it by heart herself. And on the day of the briefing, similar things were spread out in front of them. Maps, sand tables, photos and diagrams. Only this time, Winters and Nixon were giving out the briefing.

And you bet, Murphy sat right at the front.

"As you can see, this is called Operation Market Garden".

Easy were all seated, listening in.

"In turns of Airborne divisions, this one's even bigger than Normandy. We're dropping deep into occupied Holland". Winters told them.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, she wasn't expecting Holland.

"The allied objective is to take this road here, between Eindhoven and Arnhem, so the two British armoured divisions can move it up towards Arnhem. Our job is 'gonna be to liberate Eindhoven, stay there, wait for the tanks".

"The entire European advance has been put on hold to allocate resources for this operation". Nixon said, "it's Montgomery's personal plan, we'll be under British command".

No one was happy about that. Even Murphy was a little peeved.

"The good news is". He added, "if this works, these tanks will be over the Rhine and into Germany. That would end the war and get us home by Christmas".

The mood was lifted again.

"It'll be a daytime job". Nixon continued, "intelligence doesn't expect much opposition. They think the Krauts in Holland are mostly old men and kids. And we should take them by surprise". He then said, "in any case, say goodbye to England, I don't think they're 'gonna call this one off".

So, this sounded like the real deal.

The 101st was assigned four bridges to secure in Eindhoven and one over the Wilhelmina Canal at Son. 2nd Battalions mission was to assemble on the eastern edge of the drop zone and head directly into Eindhoven to capture three important bridges, with the support of the balance of the Regiment. They were jumping east of Son, near the forest. While the 82nd were jumping in the middle, at Nijmegan, and the British troops were jumping at Arnhem.

First, they'd secure the Wilhelmina Canal.

Then, Eindhoven.

"I ain't 'gonna lie, Murph".

She snorted, "this brings back memories".

Guarnere gave her arm a gentle nudge, "listen, those Limey's, they've been fighting for fucking years, they'll be tired as hell. And they're led by a bunch of damned donkeys".

She raised an eyebrow, looking at him.

"Listen – those ranks, they're handed down like with those Royalty folks-"

"oh, you mean like the King of England, pal?"

Guarnere set her a tiny glare.

She smiled, "sorry – carry on".

"All I'm saying is, they don't earn those ranks. Who knows who's leading us? They're real slow, like to take things at a leisurely pace, 'ya know?" He then said, "those enlisted guys, they fight like lions, like us. But those leaders, man…what a waste of fucking uniform".

Murphy looked at him, "Bill? If they're being arses, we'll kick their arses".

Guarnere pulled an amused, though shocked, face. "Oh, you ain't turning into me, Murph".

"That would be a horrible day".

Murphy looked up from the sand table and checked her watch.

"Seems simple enough". She mumbled, "not much of a headcase like Normandy".

Guarnere shook his head, "get those rookies learning this by heart, Murph".

"Just the one". Murphy said, "I'm lucky to have Gordy and Jack".

He snorted, "how is your little fire-cracker?"

"Fine". She mumbled quietly, "we keep him right".

"Make sure it stays that way". He said, "if he gets you killed, I'll kill you".

Murphy looked at him again, "that makes – that doesn't make any sense".

Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow.

"Perfect sense". She uttered quickly, "the most sense in the world, Bill".

Soon, they both cracked a smile and laughed quietly.

"Get lost, Murph".

Murphy gathered up her squad in a quiet part of the stables.

She went over the objective with them, answering any worries of questions they had.

The three of them seemed fairly relaxed about the jump.

And if they were nervous, they were doing a good job of fooling her.

"Study everything, alright?" She told them.

And speaking of nerves.

Murphy was a bag of them.

It was important not to show she was nervous in front of her squad.

So, after giving them the best smile she could muster, Murphy left the stables.

The cool air felt good on her clammy and sweaty skin.

Taking in a few deep breathes, she leaned against the side of the stable and closed her eyes.

It wasn't the drop she was worried about, it was the flight itself.

After what they went through on those planes to Normandy, it was going to cause an effect. Murphy didn't have a great fear of flying but she did develop some scared feelings towards it.

And it was going to be different this time, they weren't jumping at night for one.

And Nixon was sure the drop would go without fail.

This Holland campaign, it could end the war.

Murphy didn't want to escape, she just wanted to stop feeling so nervous.

Running a hand down her face, Murphy cleared her throat and pushed herself off from the wall. There was no use in her standing around and feeling this way, but every part of her felt like led. Her legs, her head and her stomach. Though, her stomach felt light at the same time, it was all very confusing for her.

Murphy's hands balled into fists.

She needed to stop thinking about her stomach, that would lead to disaster.

If she started to feel sick, then she'd be in serious trouble.

Because like on the ship to England, Murphy would rather have a lot of things happen to her, than to be sick. That was the worst thing to happen to her, to herself. Not her friends, not Winters because she would do almost anything for them. But for herself, she felt like getting sick was the end of the world.

You could call her crazy, Murphy could endure a lot of things in life.

But as we know, she couldn't handle that.

She walked into the latrines, turned on the taps and sat down.

With her back pressed up against the wall, Murphy drew one leg up and closed her eyes.

There, that felt a bit better now.

And with each turn or flip her stomach did, Murphy curled deeper into her leg.

It ended up with her hands gripping the sides of her head, pulling her in closer to her knee, until her forehead was touching her knee cap. This was getting serious now. But at least the water was helping, just a little.

And Murphy was fine at dealing with this alone, she preferred it.

But this was a public latrine.

"Murph?"

It was Joe Toye.

"What the hell is going on?" He walked over to her, "why is the faucet running?"

Murphy didn't respond. Too afraid to open her mouth because her throat was so tight.

And Toye just stood there, watching her for a moment.

Until he sat down next to her.

Murphy clenched her jaw, taking in another shuddering breath.

Toye looked at her, "what's going on, Murph?"

His voice had quietened down, it was softer now.

Murphy closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Is it like – like what happened with me?" He asked, "in London?"

Her eyes suddenly opened. "No". She whispered.

Toye tilted her head to the side, "then what is it?"

Murphy closed her eyes again, "I can't tell you".

"Why?"

She rubbed her lips together, "cause it's 'fecking stupid, that's why".

Toye placed a hand on the back of her neck, "come on, it won't be that bad".

She shook her head again.

"Murph". He mumbled, "you've seen me at my fucking lowest. Pretty sure you can tell me why you're sat here, with the faucet on".

He had a point.

Murphy cleared her throat, "back in Limerick…we were poor, really poor".

He nodded slowly, "yeah, what of it?"

She swallowed, "we couldn't afford coal for the fire, people would run down the street, picking coal off the ground when the cart past the houses every other morning. 'Da always had too much pride to be doing that". Murphy's stomach flipped, her nails dug into the side of her head.

Toye frowned, giving her neck a tiny squeeze.

"Well". She continued, quietly. "My little sister, Neve, she had the cold at the time. We didn't have a fire going that night, 'da didn't have money to spare. 'Mam gave Neve some water, to help with her throat and we went to bed that night". Murphy's eyes opened, she was staring at the fabric on her trousers, "I was seven at the time…Neve was only a little baby. Maybe ten months old, she slept next to me". She cleared her throat, "I woke up, late at night and I was freezing. The coldest I had ever felt in all 'me life. I turned to check on Neve and though dark in the room, I could see how blue she was". Murphy gave her head a tiny shake, "still as a statue, frozen like ice. She had died".

His face fell.

"Of a cold…lots of my baby brothers and sisters died of illness. Cause we couldn't afford to make them feel better. And I was always right beside them, watching them. And I guess I have the fear of illness". Murphy bit down on her lip, "it's stupid, right?"

Toye shook his head, "fuck, Murph…I'd be shit scared too".

"No, you wouldn't". She croaked, "you're Joe Toye".

He chuckled sadly, "Murph – come on, look at me, huh?"

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy lifted her head.

Toye wrapped his arm around her, "you've seen me at my fucking lowest, Murph. It's just having no control over somethings, you know? And you don't, you don't have control over a lot of things, but you can always control how you feel about shit".

Murphy rested her hand on her knee, looking up at him.

"Ah, Murph". He sighed quietly, "you just remind me that I ain't alone sometimes".

"What'd you mean?" She asked softly.

Toye shook his head, "we ain't superhuman, we're only human".

Murphy smiled small with a frown. "God, Joe…why'd you ever think you were stupid? I don't know who told you that but if you told yourself that, then you need to realise that you're the best and we're all proud of you".

He pulled her into his side, "thanks, Murph".

She leaned into him, "don't thank me".

Toye smiled a little, "listen, when you feel ill or whatever – come find me, huh?"

"I will". Murphy whispered, "you ever feel low, you come and get me".

"Alright, deal".

Toye looked over at the faucet, "you feel sick still?"

Murphy shook her head.

"We should turn the faucet off, Murph".

She gave his chest a light pat, "in a minute, pal".

Shrugging, Toye placed his cheek on the top of her head, "yeah, alright then".

"Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"You think it'll be alright out there this time?"

Toye was quiet for a moment, "I think it'll be different".

Murphy sighed quietly, "yeah…so do I".

…

They weren't set to drop until the 17th.

They found that out a couple of days later.

So, they had one day left to go over the objective and do whatever they did to keep their stress levels low. Many of them gambled, others went to the pub and some stayed quiet. Now that Murphy had that spell of nerves, she was feeling a bit better. To keep het distracted, she went over her squads' inventory, while they did whatever they wanted around camp.

And if she was feeling nice, Murphy would even clean their rifles and bayonets.

It was all for her own state of mind, these tasks helped her a lot.

Murphy trusted her squad enough not to take advantage of her being nice.

They had already proved that to her, during training.

God, she pushed those guys hard.

The ultimate test was only tomorrow.

Murphy tended not to think about the weight on her shoulder.

But she kept it close enough to remind her of the responsibilities she had now.

"Are you cleaning your men's weapons?"

Murphy smiled and looked up from Jackson's rifle, "I am".

Winters sat down on the bed opposite her, "can I help?"

She nodded, "you can".

Murphy handed her Carson's bayonet and a spare rag.

"Where are they?"

She shook her head, looking back down at the rifle. "I don't want to know".

Winters smiled, "better not knowing, huh?"

"Whatever helps". She said, "this helps me, so, I decided to keep at it".

"Are you nervous?"

Murphy stopped cleaning, "less than I was".

Winters looked at her, "what's making you nervous?"

She sighed, "I don't want the drop to be like last time".

He reached over and squeezed her hand, "you're not alone, Murphy".

She smiled softly, "I know".

Smiling back, Winters let go of her hand.

"I figure it'll be fine". She said, "or, it'll have to be. No use in worrying what he can't control, right?"

He nodded, "that's right, Murphy".

"You been busy, sir?"

"Exceptionally".

Murphy smiled, with a tiny snort.

Winters smiled back at her, "what?"

She shook her head, "nothing…just, it's so different from last time around. Nearly all of us are in a different rank now". Murphy then pointed out, "you're in charge of what? One hundred and forty troopers now?"

"Along those lines, yeah". He replied, "quite the number, huh?"

Murphy cleared her throat, "well, if anyone can handle it, it's Captain Winters".

Winters reached over and gave her knee a squeeze, "thank you, Murphy".

Smiling, she looked up from the rifle. "You're welcome, sir. And thanks for the help".

He nodded, "you haven't made a Will".

Murphy pursed her lips, "no, I haven't".

Winters cleared his throat, "any reason for avoiding this?"

"Slipped my mind, sir".

"Head over to HQ, Lipton's handling the documents".

Murphy gave a tiny nod, "right…now?"

"Yup". Winters said, taking the rifle from her hands. "Right now, Sargent Flynn".

The strange thing was, they both talked so casually about this Will.

Like it was just another document to sign.

Murphy headed over to HQ, which was a large barn near the stables. Lipton was sitting behind a desk, sorting out everyone's currency exchanges. Murphy did not envy his job. However, as a 1st Sargent, Lipton worked very closely with Winters. So, in some respects, she did envy his position. Murphy didn't see enough of Winters, especially when it came to combat.

"Hey, 1st Sargent".

Lipton looked up, "oh, have I got bones to pick with you, Sargent Flynn".

Murphy huffed softly, "yeah". Taking off her hat, she sat down on the chair in front of the desk.

"Will?" He guessed, taking out a piece of paper and a pen from a drawer.

"What do I write?" She asked him quietly.

Lipton's face softened, "well, who you're leaving what with". He said, "some of the boys wrote it in a form of a letter, suppose you could do the same".

Picking up the pen, Murphy stared at the paper.

"Want me to leave?"

She shook her head, "what – no, Lip. You stay. This is your desk. I'll manage".

He smiled small, "alright, Murph".

Sighing softly, she started off her "Will".

 _"Dear Mammy,_

 _If you receive this, it means that I won't be seeing you again._

 _I can't predict the future, but I only hope that I died making everyone proud. And I hope, most of all, that I've made you proud. Though in recent events, perhaps we won't be seeing eye to eye. And I do feel you will always deserve better, but I can't change the way you think, I can only try and pick you back up, whenever he knocks you down._

 _In my passing, I'll leave you everything I've saved since training. You'll get a lot of money. It should be enough for a decent house, one where the walls aren't damp, and you'll get to buy another mattress too. I'm pretty sure the twins can have a separate room from you now. And it might be enough for you to move somewhere better. I suggest Edinburgh. That's a good city. I went there recently, I liked it._

 _Don't be sad if you get this letter. It means I've fallen with the rest of my brothers and I'll be at peace with them forever. And it means that I gave it my all and I hope I saved another life in the process of my death._

 _I'm sorry, mammy. I'm sorry if I've appeared cold hearted. I should have written you more letters, not just this one. But it's hard for me, I'd get too homesick if I wrote to you every other day. I hope you can understand that. Because I miss you a lot, mammy. And you know me, I don't miss a lot of things, but I'll always miss you._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Murphy Flynn"._

Murphy bit down on her lip and folded the letter up, placing it into an envelope.

Lipton looked up, "okay?"

She nodded and handed him the envelope, "yeah – fine".

Well, that was a blow to the chest.

Murphy left HQ, Lipton had a lot of work to be cracking on with.

"Sarge!" Jackson came rushing over to her, "Jason's lost a sock".

Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Did he check under his bed?"

A fond smile soon reached his lips, "he did, Sarge. First place he looked".

Murphy clapped his shoulder, "alright, I'll get him a new one. Anything else?"

"No, Sarge".

"Okay, get lost, Jack".

Jackson chuckled, "see you around, Sarge".

Guarnere laughed out loud when she asked for a sock.

"That kid must drive you mad, Murph!"

Yeah, he does. She thought.

Sock received, Murphy handed it to Hughes and let the matter slide.

She made sure her squad were in bed by ten and told them to stay away from beer.

Of course, they wouldn't listen.

Everyone had a beer that night, and Murphy reminded the not to drink too much.

"I don't have words of wisdom to give you". She said to them, "but I will say, you've done me proud. I'm very proud of you all. And I know you'll continue to make me proud in Holland tomorrow".

Murphy checked her watch, it was nearing eleven.

She was sitting with her squad at a table in the bar.

"Sometimes, things don't go to plan and it's never how we imagined it to be". Murphy was mainly focused on Hughes, "combat isn't all about shooting and killing Germans, not just that. Always use your head first, that's the one thing that'll keep you alive. And if you feel like shit, then tell me and I'll sort it out, okay?"

"Yes, Sarge".

"Okay, try and get some sleep". She said to them, "and if you can't, then it's fine. We didn't sleep much before Normandy".

"No, we didn't". Carson whispered.

Smiling, Murphy clapped his shoulder. "Goodnight, lads".

"Night, Sarge".

It was a long night.

Murphy saw a lot of the ceiling, while she tried to sleep.

And she was glad when morning came, and everyone was getting up.

She got her squad up first, making sure they were getting changed and their chutes were packed before anything else. Murphy told them to leave their reserve behind, they were dropping low and didn't need it. She then set about packing her own chute, while they got their musette bags and webbings packed. Murphy doubled checked they had absolutely everything with them.

"Hughes, lift up your trousers".

He laughed, "my socks are on, Sarge".

Grinning, she pulled his belly strap. "Feeling okay?"

"I'm ready, Sarge".

"Good". She mumbled, "stay confident, eh?"

Hughes nodded, "I will, Sarge".

"Who let you out of the hospital like that, boy?"

Murphy turned around from Hughes and saw Popeye.

"They didn't let me out, I busted out". He said, "I didn't 'wanna get reassigned to some other unit".

"Hey, Pop". She grinned. "Good to see you out and hopping about".

Popeye chuckled and shook her hand, "good to see you, Murph. Congrats, huh?"

"Thanks, pal".

Lipton smiled, "can you make the jump?"

"Sure I can Lip, I just can't sit".

Bull gave him a nod and a broad smile, "welcome back, Popeye".

"Thanks, Bull".

"Popeye went AWOL just in time to jump". Lipton said.

"What's he doing here?"

Frowning, Murphy followed Bull's gaze.

"Holy…". She whispered.

"Who, Sobel?" Lipton asked, "well, he's the newly appointed Regimental S-4".

Bull's grin widened, "supply officer?"

"Yeah, you got it".

"He picked me up in Aldbourne, trying to find you guys". Popeye told them, while they all watched Sobel unload a truck.

"He know you went AWOL?" Bull asked.

"He knows". Popeye replied lightly, "he just said I was lucky. I could sit this jump out if I wanted. I said I didn't want to. So he says, hop it".

Murphy huffed out a tiny laugh, shaking her head.

"Hop in?" Bull asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know". Popeye grinned, "I couldn't believe it either. Anyway, maybe he's 'gonna court martial me later".

Murphy grinned.

Lipton wrapped an arm around Popeye's shoulders, "come on, let's get you some gear".

Bull and Murphy continued to stare at Sobel.

Watching, while he looked from a motorbike to Malarkey.

"Sargent Malarkey".

"Sir".

"You thought you'd get away with it?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Sargent, that motorcycle is U.S army property. That may not mean anything to you, but it means something to me".

Murphy shook her head slowly.

A tiger never changes his stripes.

"Where'd you find it?" Sobel asked him.

"That's him alright". Bull mumbled.

"Who is he, Sarge?" Hashey asked him.

"He's our first CO".

"What happened?"

"He got promoted".

Smirking, Murphy turned back and walked towards her squad. She checked her watch, it was almost go time. The planes were all packed up with their equipment and gear. Now, they just needed to get themselves into the sticks and get ready for take-off.

"When we land, don't spend too much time on the drop zone". She warned them, "not only are we falling but all our gear is coming after us. If you get a chance, grab some of the gear which falls near you and take it towards the wooded area. That's where we'll meet up. Understand?"

"Yes, Sarge".

Looking away from her squad, Murphy looked up at the plane.

Everything was so different now.

"Alright, let's go".

Murphy helped her squad up on the plane first and then grabbed onto Buck's hand, who pulled her up. She sat near the front again, third to drop. This was becoming a habit for Murphy, but she'd rather just get it out the way, like most times.

Buck was jump-master and Lipton was the push man.

The push man made sure everyone got off the plane and if someone hesitated or refused, Lipton would have to push them out. Murphy hoped her guys wouldn't need a push out the door, it was just like in training jumps. She knew Carson would be fine, but Jackson wasn't a Paratrooper before, and Hughes had never seen combat.

They weren't given anti-sickness tablets.

Everyone was wide awake for this flight.

And like last time, they kept the door open so people could smoke.

If they kept it shut, this plane would heat up like a stove.

Guarnere was beside her, he was second to jump.

Murphy was glad he was next to her and she was glad to see he didn't look as angry as last time.

She gave his arm a nudge, "your three squads?"

"Fine". He replied, "your boys?"

Murphy nodded, "they're good".

"Hope Lip don't have to shove them out".

"Nah, they'll be alright, Bill". Murphy replied evenly, "Joe and Babe on the other stick?"

Guarnere nodded, "yeah…Winters is with them".

Her heart squeezed at the sound of his name.

More than anything, she just wanted him to be okay.

Murphy didn't see him before boarding this plane, they were both too busy.

She had her squad, he had everyone to think about.

Guarnere smirked and crossed his arms, "old Gonorrhoea don't miss a thing".

She looked up at him.

That smirk soon turned into a smug smile, "I'm nosey, Murph".

"Jesus". Murphy whispered.

"I won't say anything". Guarnere told her.

She shook her head, "how the hell did you find out?"

"Saw him buy a necklace". He said, "then I see you wearing it".

Murphy rubbed her lips together and soon smiled.

He looked at her, "he makes you happy, huh?"

She nodded, "he does".

"Dammit". Guarnere whispered, "he's one lucky son of a bitch".

Murphy faced the front again, a smile still on her face.

"Murph". He said, "I'll make sure nothing happens to you".

She frowned a little.

"Cause Jesus Christ, would it break his fucking life".

"Mines too".


	21. Chapter 21

It was a beautiful day; the sun was out, and the sky was blue and clear.

Holland was absolutely stunning, you'd think the war was over.

Everything about that drop went as smooth as butter.

No hedgerows, no darkness, no flak.

It was perfect, almost as carefree as a training jump.

Murphy landed quietly onto the ground and quickly got rid of her chute.

Equipment was falling vastly from above her.

She left her chute on the ground, grabbed her rifle and legged it towards the wooded area.

Some other guys from 2nd were there and waiting for the rest to catch-up.

"That was breezy". Malarkey commented, "easy and breezy".

Murphy smiled, though searched the area for her squad.

They'd be arriving shortly, they jumped not long after her.

"Where the Goddam is Heffron?" Toye muttered, from somewhere behind her.

Her shoulders dropped, when she saw her squad quickly running over to her.

"Everyone okay?" She asked, eyes scanning them for injuries or lack of equipment.

"Fine, Sarge". Carson told her, "managed to grab a bag of equipment".

"Good". Murphy gave them a quick smile, "we're just waiting here for now".

"Pretty nice here, huh?" Jackson commented.

She nodded and looked around.

It was nice in Holland. The trees were blossomed with big green leaves, sunflowers were growing up nicely and the weather was stunning. It was almost like being on holiday.

"Wonder what the Natives are like". Carson mused, "didn't see much French".

"I'm sure they'll be more than happy to see us". Hughes grinned, "ain't we liberating them?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah, they've been under German command for almost five years".

"Jesus". He whispered, "that's a lot of time to be around a bunch of assholes".

"I don't know, Hughes". She said, "your parents put up with you for eighteen years".

They got a tiny chuckle out of that.

Murphy spotted Guarnere with Buck.

"Stay". She said to her squad.

Murphy walked over to them, Buck was mentally counting each guy, eyes sweeping over every head.

"Where the hell is Heffron?" Guarnere asked her.

"I have no idea". She replied, "Joe was looking for him".

"Jim, his assistant, he made it".

"Well, Babe shouldn't be too far behind". She mumbled softly.

"Murph, your guys here?" Buck asked.

"Yeah, sir".

"Alright, we're moving out soon. Tactical formation. Dog are leading, we're in the middle, Battalion HQ and Fox behind". He told them.

A tiny smile reached Murphy's lips, "looks like Fox learned their lesson, eh?"

Buck chuckled quietly, "yeah – yeah".

Guarnere smirked, "alright, get lost, Murph. Get your squad ready to move".

Heffron just managed to join Easy as they were about to head over to Son. Apparently, some guy from Dog Company broke his leg from the drop and Heffron helped carry him back to his Company. It was a million-dollar wound, that guy was going home.

All the Dutch ran out to greet them when they saw them coming into the village.

They truly were beautiful and kind people, much different than the French.

Easy were given hugs, kisses, good and beer. And they stalked up on food because K rations were something which never tasted good the second day of eating them. Guarnere had a load of green apples, he hoarded them in his webbing, pockets and musette bag.

They waved their orange flags everywhere, on the streets, from shops and houses.

It was a wonderful sight. It really was and it brought a smile to everyone's face.

But what made Murphy's heart melt the most, was seeing the man she loved receive a tiny flower from a little girl, who was wearing a very pretty yellow dress, cheeks rosy as roses. God, she was adorable, and Winters even crouched in front, to thank her properly.

However, they were running out of time, they needed to secure that bridge.

Getting through that crowd and remaining polite, was time consuming.

When they were half a mile in front of the bridge at Wilhelmina.

 **Bang!**

88's and machine-guns started to fire at them.

It blew right up in their faces.

Big chunks of debris flew everywhere, and everyone was rushing to find cover. Once they were in about the dirt, Easy and Dog started to fire back at them. Murphy made sure her squad were firing, no use in sitting around and waiting for it to stop.

One of the shells hit the department store behind them and the impact flew Heffron right across the street, he was lying there, knocked out. Murphy saw this happening, right from her cover. She turned to Carson.

"Keep them tight!"

Keeping her head down, Murphy turned around and bolted down the street.

She came skidding to a stop and got down on her knees beside Heffron.

Murphy took off his helmet, wanting to check his head. She could feel a bump but nothing sinister. She then put his helmet back on and gave his shoulder a gentle shake.

"Hey, Babe?"

He let out a tiny groan.

"Hey, pal". Murphy mumbled softly, "hey – it's alright, eh? You're okay".

Heffron opened an eye, looking at her. "Ma?"

She huffed quietly, with an easy smile. "Oh, I think she'd have killed all those Krauts if she saw her son lying down here, Babe".

Blinking a few times, Heffron slowly sat himself up. "Jesus fuck".

Murphy nodded slowly, "yeah…welcome to the war, Babe".

Snorting, he slung his rifle across his shoulder.

She got onto her feet and grabbed his arm, "alright, let's go".

And that's when they both felt blood.

Murphy took her hand away, looking at the red liquid, before looking at Heffron.

He shook his head, "it's fine – come on, Murph".

The next loud explosion came from the bridge.

The Germans had destroyed it.

Heffron and the rest of the machine-gunners managed to push the Germans back, but their next problem was getting across the river. If only they were dropped on their actual objective, then maybe all of this could have been avoided. The planes dropped them eight-miles away from their main objective, Eindhoven.

"Sarge, I see a couple of waterlogged row-boats". Carson told Murphy.

A lot of them were grabbing doors, any forms of sturdy wood to make a bridge.

"I could swim across".

Murphy pursed her lips, "got a dry kit?"

Carson laughed, "no, but it's warm".

"Right, go tell Lieutenant Compton. If he say's yes, then go for it".

While Carson and Hughes went about swimming across the river, Murphy helped the others with building a make-shift bridge. Carson and Hughes were fast-little swimmers, they managed to grab a boat in a matter of minutes.

"Your guys are great". Muck said, "if this works, we won't need to do all this".

"We'll see". She mumbled softly.

Though their town had been near enough destroyed, the Dutch came over to help.

They brought out tools, more wood and helped with assembling the bridge.

Murphy didn't know how to thank them. Literally, she couldn't speak their language. So, she shook their hands and gave them cigarettes.

"That's the good stuff, I hear".

"Ah – thank you".

Murphy smiled, "how do you say, thank you?"

The man grinned, "dank je".

She repeated back to him slowly, "dank…je?"

He nodded eagerly, "yes, very good".

Though, the Dutch spoke English very well.

"Ah shit!" Hughes yelled.

There was a loud splash.

Murphy's head snapped towards the river. The boat had capsized.

Sighing, she ran right over there.

Carson's head wasn't appearing up to the surface.

"Where is he?!" She demanded.

"He was…". Hughes turned around, "he was right behind me!"

Taking off her helmet and jacket, Murphy put them down and dove right into that river.

She was going to kill Carson.

The water was murky, and Murphy's arm had scrapped across a few jaggy rocks when she hit the bottom. But when she kicked forward, she soon spotted Carson. He was frantically trying to free himself, his jacket had got caught on a piece of wood from the boat, preventing him from getting up to the surface.

Murphy reached his side and grabbed his arm.

Tugging it wouldn't work, Carson would have been free by now.

So, she reached into her boot and pulled out her small knife.

Murphy cut apart of his sleeve and wrapped an arm around his waist.

When they reached the surface, Carson was spluttering and gasping.

"Easy, it's okay". She mumbled softly, "just breathe, you're alright".

Guarnere, Liebgott and Toye were at the bank, waiting to help.

Murphy slowly swam over to them, with Carson still in her arms.

God, what a mess.

They helped the pair of them onto the grass, her jacket was soon placed across her shoulders. Carson was still coughing, she gave him a few pats on the back.

"You idiot, Gordy".

He nodded, "yup".

It was a good thing this didn't happen during the winter, they'd freeze.

Winters soon knelt in front of them.

"Are you two okay?"

Murphy gave him a nod, "we're fine, sir. Gordy's plan capsized".

Carson, through chattering teeth, laughed. "Very funny, Murph".

Winters smiled a little, staring at Murphy.

She gave him another nod, his smile widened slightly.

"We're digging in for the night in town. The engineers are 'gonna come down and build something stronger for the tanks to get across".

"Alright, sir". Murphy said, "I'll make sure my lads are dug in".

Soon, a blanket was placed around Murphy and Carson.

It was a couple of Dutch women who did it.

Aw, well, if that didn't warm their hearts.

"Dank je". Murphy grinned.

And they both said something in their native tongue.

Her smile fell, "ah – that's all I know".

The two women giggled.

"You're welcome".

Their uniforms were drying off quickly, thanks to the Holland sun.

Murphy ordered her guys to dig in, keep each other company for the night. She set off to dig a hole with Jackson, Carson and Hughes were a few feet behind them. Murphy liked Jackson, he was a good guy, really funny too but on most occasions, he was very quiet. His best friends were Hughes and Carson. And he got along well with Miller, from Bull's squad.

Murphy considered Hughes and Jackson to be the quietest members in Easy.

If Carson got promoted, they'd be a pretty quiet squad.

Murphy was glad they still had Carson, but she knew he'd be getting promoted shortly.

"I swam the river loads". Jackson told her, once they were settled into their foxhole. "The Allegheny River, my brother said I was a daredevil for doing it, the currents are strong".

Murphy snorted, "maybe you should have swum across that one, Jack".

He chuckled quietly, "Gordy did a god job".

She laughed, "Jack – he capsized".

Jackson shrugged, "the boat did, I think he tried to stay on".

Murphy sobered up and shook her head, "God…I could have killed him". She then looked up at Jackson, "how many siblings do you have?"

"Younger sister Margaret and Robert, he's older. In the navy, Italy".

"How olds your sister?"

Jackson smiled, "she just turned ten".

"She'll be missing you, I bet". Murphy said to him quietly, "I missed my little brothers".

"I didn't know you had any". Jackson said, "you never talk much about your family".

"I have two". She said, "twins, I think their three now – I honestly don't know".

He sighed, "yeah, that's young. Margaret was horrible at that age".

Murphy smiled and leaned back against the dirt, "yeah…the terrible toddler years, eh?"

The two of them remained quiet for a few moments, while they thought about home.

Conor and Robbie.

They must be three now or just turning three.

Murphy didn't know, how terrible was that?

And she did wonder about her mum and how she was coping.

"Murph, with me".

She blinked out of her thoughts and got up.

Murphy stood next to Guarnere, the two of them walked past others, who were hunkered down and sitting tightly in their little foxholes. She didn't know what he wanted but was happy to be up and not thinking about her family. As bad as that sounded, it still caused her to lose focus and she had to remain totally in the game.

"Bridge is finished". He told her, while they walked. "We're crossing in the morning, heading straight into Eindhoven. If our reception is anything like Son, times that by one hundred".

She gave him a small nod.

Guarnere looked at her, "boys alright? Gordy fine?"

"Yeah". Murphy whispered, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Yeah – they're fine".

He gave her shoulder a tiny nudge, "what's with your fucking face?"

"Eh?"

"You look like someone just took your kitten away".

Murphy snorted, "what a way to word things, Bill".

Guarnere sighed, "Jesus, Murph…do I have to get fucking soft on you?"

She shook her head, "no, not with me, Bill".

"Alright, good". He said, "you had something to eat?"

Murphy nodded, "a little, yeah".

"Don't just stick with crackers this time, Murph".

"Right, I won't".

Murphy rubbed her lips together, looking down at her boots.

Guarnere frowned a little, "alright…get lost, huh?"

Lips twitching, she turned around and walked back to her foxhole.

…

Eindhoven was mental.

The streets were full of people and more orange flags.

As soon as they stepped inside, they were engulfed by this ginormous crowd of smiling faces, offering them food, beer and even a chair to sit down on. Getting everyone through the crowd was a tough process, women grabbed the troops, kids ran into their arms and men were all eager to shake their hands. It was loud, colourful and a happy street party.

Some Dutch woman had given Heffron a baby carriage, to put his weapons and ammo in. Heffron was soon pushing this baby carriage through the crowded streets. It was surely a funny sight, had most of them tickled. However, when Popeye tossed his gear into the carriage, Heffron shook his head.

"You do the pushing then".

Women even had these notepads, asking for their autographs.

Most of them signed names such as, "Cary Grant, "Kilroy" and Murphy's personal favourite, "The Andrew Sisters". Guarnere was pretty pissed that these women were wanting their autographs, like they were a celebrity.

"We have a fucking war to fight!"

Murphy shook her head and grabbed his arm, "come on! Where the hell are the rest?!"

"I just saw some broad almost kiss the life 'outta Grant!"

She was lucky, her squad were still right behind her.

"Sounds like a good time!"

Guarnere grinned, "get your boys moving, Murph. I'll look for Buck".

For the most part, Murphy and her squad got swallowed up into this crowd.

Jackson had called out her name a few times, thinking they'd lost her.

"Still in front of you, Jack!"

"Jesus, Sarge". He said, "could have sworn you weren't!"

Murphy spotted the pavement, where other guys from 2nd Platoon were.

"Head straight there, go!"

She was proud of her squad, they didn't stray away from her.

And Murphy felt very relieved to see Winters.

He was with the other officers, while they tried to locate the bridges over the Dommel River.

2nd Platoon were the first into the city, she could see the rest entering the city now.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

Murphy could hear a woman right in front of her.

She was about to opening her mouth and respond, when the woman grabbed her face and kissed her firmly on the lips. Murphy's eyes went wide, like someone was peeling her eyelids open. Oh boy, that was a weird one.

Murphy pushed this woman off her and wiped her lips.

"I'm a girl!"

The Dutch woman grinned, "I don't care!"

She huffed out a laugh, "you're bloody mad!"

However, the Dutch woman wasn't smiling anymore.

A few guys roughly grabbed her.

Murphy frowned, "I don't mind – she didn't know!"

Here she thought the woman was being taking away because she accidentally mistook her for a male. But the Dutch men were listening, and they dragged her away. Murphy bit down on her lip, before deciding she'd better follow them and attempt to rescue this poor woman.

"Where the hell did she go?!" Heffron yelled.

Her squad shook their heads.

"She was here a minute ago!"

Murphy could hear hackling and angry yells.

She pushed past a lot of angry Dutch people, who had created a circle.

Inside that circle were women, one of them was the woman who had just kissed Murphy.

Their clothes were stripped, their hair was clipped off and the women were crying.

Murphy felt her stomach pool with rage, discomfort and pity.

What the hell was going on?

The cries these women let out, tore away at her. Murphy felt inclined to stop this.

Why were they being treated so badly?

And it wasn't just a few women, there were a lot with shaven heads, walking around in nothing but their underwear. But then Murphy noticed the Nazi symbol tattooed on their foreheads, mixed in with the blood dripping down from their skulls. The Dutch were the nicest people they had encountered during combat, there had to be a reason for this.

Murphy looked over at a man, who was beside her.

"What'd they do?" She asked him.

"Traitors". He spat, "they slept with the Nazis!"

And it wasn't just the woman.

Murphy jumped a little, when she heard gunshots from behind her.

Turning around, she soon saw a few dead men lying on the road.

"Jesus". She whispered.

But what really turned her stomach, was when they started beating the women.

They were crying, while the men punched them and a few even threw stones at them.

It was horrible to witness.

Why the hell was she watching this?

This wasn't her city, this wasn't her country. And she didn't know what it was like to live in a country which had no freedom for almost five years. But seeing a guy's fist collide into a woman's face, over and over, remind Murphy so much of home.

Maybe it was easier for her friends to look away, knowing that these were traitors.

But what if they weren't traitors?

What if they didn't have a choice?

Murphy couldn't watch anymore. It risked more questions and it risked her losing focus. So, she turned her back towards the scene and made her way towards the pavement, where she had left her squad.

The British tanks arrived later on in the afternoon.

They soon halted in the centre of the town, set up housekeeping and proceeded to make tea.

Guarnere was right, they were a leisurely bunch of dammed donkeys.

Easy had done it's job by securing the bridges, and these guys were taking a break.

And by 1830 hours, the main body of the British Guards Armoured Division started passing through Eindhoven from the south. This completed the mission assigned to the 506. Winters set up outposts around the town, while the rest of Easy dug in for the night.

It was the Dutch underground who had helped push things forward. They told them where the Germans were, what their plans were. One guy even became apart of their combat team, John van Koojik. He was a good source for Easy that day.

Murphy was sure he was great.

But man, was it hard to look a Dutch man in the eye after what she witnessed.

And Murphy always had a good head on her shoulders, that's why they were so keen to promote her, but could you blame her? It was pretty brutal to see. Even if those women had done their country bad and put them in some deep shit, Murphy didn't see them as traitors. She saw them as her mum, being beat-up by her dad and herself, too scared to do anything because she knew her turn was next.

Those women were windows to the past.

"They were traitors, Murph".

Murphy was standing in a pasture. Well, it was once probably. Before the Germans slaughtered all their livestock. Her squad were dug in, they were relaxing with a lot of food thanks to the generous Dutch folk back in town. Murphy told them to relax, eat and get some sleep.

Guarnere was soon standing next to her.

"Those Dutch…they fucking hate the Krauts, probably more than us".

Biting her lip, Murphy looked down at her boots.

"You can't blame 'em". He said, "you can't stop 'em. So, you just move on".

She swallowed and lifted her head, "right".

Guarnere sighed, "look, I get it". He said, "must be hard for a girl to watch-"

"pal, that's not it at all". Murphy mumbled, shaking her head. "So, let's just not talk about it, alright? Just forget that".

He sighed again, hands slapping to the sides of his legs.

She cleared her throat, "plan for tomorrow?"

"First Allied Airborne Army dropped into a fucking Kraut nest. Krauts have prepared a counter attack down that road between here and Arnhem. We're towards Helmond with the Brits in the morning". Guarnere told her, "you'll get a briefing in the morning".

She looked up at him, with a tiny smile. "Just got one, Bill".

Guarnere was grinning now, previously thinking that her smile was still back in England. "Oh, I was just passing the Captain. Think he's in that barn over there".

Murphy nodded slowly, "good…cause I need to see him about something".

"Yeah, I figured that". He was still grinning, "told him you'd be down soon".

She gave him a soft smile, "thanks, Bill".

Guarnere nodded, "get lost, Murph".

Murphy walked inside the small barn, which was used for storing hay and straw.

She spotted Winters, who was standing in the centre of the room, looking at a map.

When the door closed, the map dropped, and he reached her side in a matter of seconds.

Taking her face, their lips met in a heat of intensity.

Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck, Winters grabbed her waist and picked her up, where she then locked her legs around his waist. Soon, the passionate couple crashed against the wall of the barn, knocking against the wood with a thud. Winters left her lips and took off her helmet, before he started kissing her neck.

Murphy's head leaned back against the wall, turning to the side, while her hand gripped the ends of his hair. She bit down on her lip, while pleasure bubbled up inside her stomach. Winters broke the kiss from her neck with a gentle huff, a trail of a groan behind it.

"I was only meant to ask how you were".

Murphy almost laughed.

Winters smiled, "you must have a spell over me, Sargent Flynn".

"Are 'ye calling me a witch now?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

Murphy smiled a little.

And she got down from Winters.

He took her hand, they sat down on a pile of straw.

Wrapping his arm around her, Murphy leaned into his side.

"I love you". Winters whispered, while kissing the top of her head.

"Love you back". She wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Did Guarnere brief you for tomorrow?"

Murphy nodded.

"Guys up to don't expect much resistance".

She sighed quietly, "no?"

Winters shook his head.

"What do you think?"

"I think we should always expect a greater force". Winters said, "keeps us on our toes".

"Impossible". She whispered, "you always sweep me off my feet".

He chuckled, not sure if he was amused or touched.

Winters kissed her head again. "How'd that water feel?"

Murphy smiled and pulled back, looking at him. "Lovely".

Smiling back at her, he tucked a strand of blonde lock behind her ear, "you looked rather dashing emerging from that river, Murphy Flynn".

"Oh?" She whispered, suggestively.

Winters nodded, "hm…you definitely have a spell over me".

Murphy slowly shook her head, "maybe you're just in love, Dick Winters."

He placed his hands on the side of her face, "if I know what love is, it's because of you. Because I could watch you for a single minute and find thousands of things, I love about you. And I-"

Murphy grabbed the back of his neck, and their lips crashed together like a giant wave hitting the sand bank. She moved onto his lap, legs wrapped around his hips. Murphy broke the kiss and ran her fingers through his hair.

"I'm 'gonna make you happy for the rest of your life". She promised him softly, "even on the days you don't 'wanna be happy, I'll make sure I try my hardest to make you smile again. I'm 'gonna live on that farm with you, we're 'gonna be lying in bed, peacefully. And then, we'll have a few rugrats jumping around to get us out of bed". Murphy rubbed her lips together, pressing her forehead against his, while her hands gripped the collar on his shirt. "Cause if anyone deserves that life, with a picket white fence, little boots by the door and tiny hands in yours…it's you, Dick. And I'll fight for my life every day, we'll make it 'till the end. And our little corner of the universe, will expand and grow".

Winters exhaled shakily, "yeah, that sounds good".

She smiled and placed her hand on the side of his face, raising his head up to meet her eyes.

They sparkled in the dark.

"I was meant to be here". Murphy whispered, "I was meant to fall in love you with. All of this, it brought us together. It's not ideal for some but I tell 'ye, it fits the bill for us".

Winters traced his finger down her cheek.

"We have to fight for us and our friends every day". She said.

"We will". He whispered.

Murphy swallowed and pressed her face against the crook of his neck. Winters wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to forget what she had saw in town and how it made her feel.


	22. Chapter 22

On the morning of their departure, the folks from Eindhoven were there to cheer them off.

A couple of women had given Malarkey cookies, which he shared with the rest.

Easy and a Platoon of tanks were marching forward, heading eight-miles east and towards Helmond to make contact with the enemy. Some of the guys were sitting on top of the tanks, while the rest marched beside them. It was only eight-miles, Murphy figured her squad could use the extra exercise. Carson figured he'd do better on a tank, Muck helped him up.

Murphy looked up at him.

Muck only grinned in return, "he looked tired".

Shaking her head, she turned away from him with a smile.

It was another glorious day in Holland.

Murphy tried to admire the scenery around her.

It was mostly farmlands now, after they passed a few gorgeous buildings, inns and other small houses, where more Dutch people greeted them on their travels. They offered them more food, some guys took the offer, Murphy didn't. She was still full from the hot meal Stephen Grodski made them that morning. He had collected apples from an orchard, chopped them up, put them into his helmet and made this stew, cooking it on top of a Bunsen burner. Gordski was from their 2nd Platoon, they called him the Brow, because he looked like a character from a Dick Tracy comic. With one huge eyebrow across his face that looked like it had been painted on there with grease paint.

So, after passing the houses and inns, they took a secondary road in. The road was flat, with ditches on either side. They were deep drainage ditches, almost as deep as the trenches in Brecourt and they stretched all the way up until the end of the road. The roads had started to raise a little, which put some of them on edge. It was very quiet here. And the more Murphy looked at those ditches, the more she thought that Germans could have easily been hiding out in them, waiting to ambush.

That gut feeling Murphy had intensified, when they passed through Nuenen, a small village, who's claim to fame was being the birth place of Vincent Van Gough. And no sooner than when they departed Nuenen that they encountered heavy fire from the Germans.

At first, there was one single shot.

Lieutenant Brewer had been shot in the neck.

Shockingly, they'd later find out that he survived that shot.

And then, a German tank rolled out from the wooded area. They were about four hundred yards away from them and set out a round of 88's. Everyone dove into the ditches, just as the rear Brit tank got blaster and while one of the front British tanks started to fire out towards the Tiger, eventually getting it down after two blows. MG42's came blasting out as well, snipers and rifles too.

Murphy got her squad into the ditches, and they started to fire out towards the buildings in town. They were all hunkered down in that ditch, firing out continuously and wondering how the hell they were going to advance forward and reach the village when once again, a sniper and machine-gunner had them pinned down. Murphy didn't see anymore tanks, not from her position in the ditch but a few others could have sworn there were dozens of them. If the Germans had a dozen tanks, Murphy knew they were screwed, the Brits only had four or five advancing with Easy. God, so much for a quiet road towards Helmond.

Eventually, they all started to move forward in this ditch because 1st Platoon had started to head into the village. A great cloud of heavy smoke came wafting down the ditch towards them.

"Gas! Gas!" The Brow yelled frantically.

Murphy reached for her ankle, expecting to feel her gas mask. But no show, like the majority of Easy, she had left hers on the plane. Usually, they were right above their knives, which they had on their right ankles, unless you were left handed, then it was above your left ankle. But they'd taken their gas masks off, along with their reserve chutes to lighten the load before jumping. No one ever expected the Germans to use gas, even though the guys up top expected them too.

"Oh fuck!" Hughes fell onto his knees, "we're all 'gonna die!"

Everyone was scared.

Murphy grabbed his shoulder, "get up – come on!"

"Sarge, we're 'gonna-"

"we're going to die regardless but don't stop moving until you're dead, okay?"

It didn't make much sense, but it got Hughes moving forward.

Still, some of the guys started to choke.

Murphy wasn't choking, she didn't feel any effect at all.

"It's not gas!" She yelled.

"They're smoke pots!" Toye yelled right after her.

And the air cleared, they could see the smoke was coming from the British tank.

"Who the hell hollered gas?!" Guarnere was livid.

Of course, no one said who it was. They weren't a rat.

But they did whisper to the Brow when they past him, "dumb son of a bitch".

If Guarnere found out, he would have given the Brow holy hell.

He scared the shit out of everyone for those brief few moments.

Eventually, 2nd Platoon made it into the village. Things were pretty quiet and quick, while Guarnere and Buck started to order everyone into a position. Murphy and her squad made their way around the back of a factory, at least, that's what she thought it was. Behind them, maybe twenty or so yards away, Buck was setting up the mortar squads.

They stayed low, Murphy peeked her head around the corner and saw Martin with a few squads, positioned around a café. She kept her eyes on them for a few moments, before turning back to her guys. Hughes still looked a little shaken up after the "gas" incident, Carson and Jackson were both doing okay.

She looked back over towards Buck, who gave her the thumbs up.

Murphy nodded back, they were ready to start firing.

Problem was, there was nothing to fire at yet. Not that they could see.

Murphy looked back around the corner, Martin had spotted something.

When their eyes met, he placed a hand over his eyes, pointing to the left.

Something was hidden. Murphy could only guess it was one of the tigers.

She looked back at her squad, "Gordy, tell Buck we have hidden Tiger, to the left".

Carson nodded and quickly scurried off to the Lieutenant.

Murphy didn't know if it was a Tiger but when she saw Martin and Heffron race towards one of the British tanks, informing them of their discovery, she could only assume so. Carson joined them again.

"Okay, Sarge".

Murphy watched Heffron stand, keeping guard, while Martin climbed up on the tank.

She didn't know what they were saying but the Brit looked through his binoculars and shook his head. Whatever Martin had spotted, the Brit couldn't see it. And after a few moments, of what looked like a heated conversation, Martin jumped down from the tank, before it and other tanks advanced forward, heading straight towards the position Martin was concerned about.

As soon as Martin and Heffron made it back to their position.

An 88 rang out and hit the tank second to the front.

And then, all hell broke loose.

Tigers were appearing out of nowhere, machine-gunners popped out of windows from the top of houses and buildings, bullets were flying, and German infantry just stormed right into the village, cutting Easy off from all sides.

They were outflanked.

An 88 hit the side of the factory building they were taking cover behind.

Murphy and her squad dove to the side, while debris and bricks flew at them.

She grabbed onto Carson's arm, "to Buck – go! Get them to Buck!"

It was a tank on tank battle, while Easy tried to take care of the Germans on the ground and hiding up in the buildings. And while all this was going on, a tank was on Bull's tail. He got caught between a tank and a bunch of Germans and was crawling down a ditch. Martin saw the entire thing and thought he might have been crushed by that tank or hit by a bullet. But no one was sure.

Guys were getting shot at, left right and centre.

Tanks were chasing after them, while they tried to make a break through hedgerows or back into ditches for cover. Buildings were being blown up, guys were flying into the air. Murphy didn't know how many were hit or dead, but it sure felt like a lot.

"Murph!" Buck screamed, "over here, now!"

Murphy picked up her rifle and got onto her feet.

The door from the factory opened and a ton of Germans popped out.

Because of the surprise, she didn't have time to position her rifle properly and ended up firing out from her hip, hitting Germans from a lower angle. Some of them fell down, some continued to run, they didn't even see her straight away. Because bullets were flying amongst the chaos, the Germans never thought to look behind them and see her firing at them. Murphy got lucky there, she would have been dead if they'd spotted her. And she remained there for a few further minutes, perfectly blending in with the Germans.

Until Hughes panicked and revealed her position.

"Sarge!"

Murphy quickly rolled towards the edge of the factory and ran up the street.

The Germans started firing out towards her.

She took cover behind a tank, which was on fire.

From the inside, she could hear men screaming in agony, while they were being burned alive.

That was a noise she'd never forget.

It made her stomach churn and her blood freeze.

 **Bang!**

The tank soon exploded, another 88 pounding right into it.

The impact sent Murphy flying down the street.

She smashed into the side of a wall, while white chalk and bits of stone grazed and cut her cheek. Everything was very dark, she had been knocked out cold from the blast. Her helmet flew off, her rifle was inches in front of her and Murphy might have died. But as if returning the favour, Heffron woke her up.

"Murph!"

Murphy opened her eyes, Heffron sat her up and put her helmet back on.

"You're okay, let's go!"

Rifle now in her hands, Murphy had to ignore the dizziness and get back up.

They took a different route and found themselves back into a ditch, with Buck, her squad, Malarkey, Toye and a few others. Right now, they had to head back down the road and get the hell out of here. But as they were running down the ditch, Buck fell down.

"Medic!" Malarkey yelled, "go and get a medic!"

Buck had been shot in the ass, one bullet, it went through both cheeks.

They tried dragging him back, but it was like dragging a horse!

"Just go!" Buck ordered them, "leave me for the Germans".

"What?! Are you nuts!" Malarkey exclaimed.

Murphy stayed with the Lieutenant and Gene, while her squad gave them covering fire.

The rest had gone off to find something, to help with carrying Buck.

She was down on her knees, holding his hand into hers.

"B-best not tell Winters, huh?"

Murphy shook her head, "be quiet, sir".

Buck gave her a tiny smile, "make sure Gurno doesn't get too stupid, huh?"

"You'll be back with us soon enough, sir". Murphy said to him.

Gene grabbed her chin and tilted her head, "you're bleeding".

"It's fine". She mumbled softly, "just a cut".

"I'm checking in with you later, Flynn".

The guys came back with a door.

Buck was soon hanging from the side, while they all dragged this door down the ditch.

Murphy and Heffron ran off to the side, wanting to give the Platoon covering fire.

And they did. With Heffron using his machine-gun, Murphy had to act as his assistant and help run the rounds into the gun. They sat there, on the edge of that ditch for what felt like hours but only minutes had passed. And soon, more tanks and Germans started to run at them.

They had to get the hell out of there!

But in order to get beyond the Germans, they had to climb over a hedgerow.

Murphy looked over at Heffron. This hedgerow was six-feet tall and four-feet wide.

"Running start, pal!" She told him over the machine-gun fire.

Heffron gave her a nod, tossing his machine-gun over the hedgerow first.

They both moved back into German fire, hearts pounding and reaching their throats.

"Give it a running start!" John Sheehy yelled from the other side.

Bullets were kicking up the dirt by their ankles, whizzing by their heads.

And they both ran.

Heffron's rosary beads flew off his neck but they both jumped up and Sheehy grabbed them both, helping them down. They both landed with a heavy puff of air and soon reached down to grab their helmets, Heffron picked up his beads.

"How the fuck did that happen?!"

They had fallen into his helmet somehow.

Murphy shook her head slowly, "must be your lucky day, pal!" She then looked at Sheehy, "thanks for that, John! I reckon you just saved our lives!"

Now, they could start to make their retreat.

However, Heffron caught sight of a wounded man lying near them.

So, they both ran over to him, prepared to bring him back.

But Sargent Ranney, who was a few feet in front of them said, "leave him, he's dead!"

Murphy and Heffron both looked down at the dead solider and she gasped.

It was Miller, from Bull's squad.

He had a hole through his left temple and his face was coated in blood.

Heffron fell to his knees, and Murphy knelt beside him.

"Babe?" She whispered, growing concerned.

He shook his head, "I told him he'd make it till the end".

Feeling her heart squeeze, Murphy placed a hand on his shoulder.

The noise around them fell silent, while the pair sat in front of Miller.

It was horrible, he was only a boy. Not old enough to drink, hadn't shaved. Fresh skinned, bright eyes and the right sort of attitude. Murphy set her jaw and gave Heffron's shoulder a squeeze.

"Come on, pal". She said to him softly, "let's get out of here".

Fifteen wounded, four dead and one missing – Bull.

Nixon had arrived with trucks, enough to get everyone back into town.

Winters was standing on the road by the trucks, yelling for everyone to get back.

Easy weren't in the best of spirits.

Some of them cried, others hung their heads, or stared in shock.

 _How the hell am I still alive?_

Murphy got onto a truck, with the help from Carson.

She sat down next to Hughes. Now, here came the hard part.

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy reached inside her pocket and pulled out cigarettes. She handed one to each of her lads. And they all looked a little concerned, if not surprised by the gesture.

"Lads". She mumbled.

Hughes frowned, taking the cigarette. "Sarge?"

Murphy sighed quietly, "James is dead".

His face fell, "James – James Miller?"

Swallowing, Murphy nodded and looked back towards the village. "Yeah, he's dead".

Watching that village fall into the ground, it crushed every good thought in her head.

Holland may have been a beautiful country, but that beauty masked a very painful end.

Easy were retreating to Tongelre. A small village outside of Eindhoven.

The risk of the Germans taking back that town was high. The Dutch were going to lose their houses, businesses and freedom once again and they weren't sure what hit them hard the most. Murphy was relieved her squad were okay, that her friends were there, and Winters was fine. But Bull was missing, and they'd need to get him back.

When they arrived in the village, Winters told everyone to dig in for the night.

The medics were busy evacuating their four wounded.

But Gene hadn't forgotten about Murphy.

She sat down on the grass, while the medic sat in front of her.

Murphy placed her helmet to the side and sure enough, she had a cut to the side of her head.

"You blacked out?"

"Yeah". She whispered, "Babe woke me up".

Gene sighed, while he looked at the wound. "That's 'gonna need stitched".

"Alright". Murphy grumbled, "but I'm not leaving, Gene".

"I'd rather you would".

"It's just a cut".

Gene wanted to argue with her but like most cases, it wasn't a battle worth fighting. So, he reached into his medic pack and pulled out the tools he'd need to use. Thread, needle, cloth, a small bottle of whiskey and a bandage. Gene poured whiskey over the bandage, "this will sting, Flynn". He warned her softly, "I'll try and be as quick as I can".

As soon as the strong stuff hit her flesh, Murphy flinched.

Yeah, that did sting.

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Gene grimaced, "sorry, Flynn".

"It's alright". She whispered, "so…how's Buck?"

"He'll be out of combat for a while". He told her, "one bullet, four holes".

Murphy opened her eyes, "really?"

Gene snorted softly, "yeah…couldn't believe it either".

He soon carefully placed the thread into the needle.

"Now, this will hurt".

Murphy gave him a tiny nod and closed her eyes, "Jesus – alright, go for it".

Gene hated to do this, especially to Murphy. And she did flinch, when the needle went right into her skin. She was breathing heavily, hands gripping onto her trousers. Gene felt terrible. But it had to be done.

"Almost done". He soothed.

"Are 'ye?"

"No".

Murphy huffed, "ha – you're funny, Gene".

"You're doing well". He said softly, "I could tell you about other guys who cried while I stitched them up?"

"No, I'd feel sorry for them". She said, breathing hitching when the needle pierced into her skin again.

Gene tried to do this as quickly and as carefully as he could.

When he did finish, he wrapped a bandage around the side of her head.

Murphy put on her helmet, "thank you, Gene".

He smiled softly at her, "come back and see me tomorrow, I'll check the stitching".

She got up and made her way towards her squad, who were quietly digging in.

Murphy crouched in front of their hole, which was almost finished.

"You've done extremely well today". She told them, "I'm very proud of you".

Hughes sighed, "we lost".

"Now, Hughes". Murphy said, "in order to win, you have to know how it feels to lose. And even if we didn't win this fight, we'll win the next one. And the next. And then, we've won".

Carson looked at her, "you think we're 'gonna win the war?"

"Well, if I thought we'd lose, I'd have picked a different side". She joked lightly.

They smiled a little at that.

Murphy softened her features, "you're all 'gonna be fine. Maybe not right now, or even tomorrow but the next day, you'll be fine".

She remembered losing Noah and Bloser.

It was the type of pain which never truly left, it just numbed a little.

"And if you still feel like shit on that third day, then look ahead and keep going forward".

Murphy told her squad to get something to eat and have a rest.

She wondered down the line, almost bumping into Guarnere.

"What's going on?" Murphy asked, "where's Bull?"

"We don't know". He then tutted when he saw her bandage, "we're 'gonna go and look for 'um. You stay here, make sure the fellas are settled".

"Can you at least wait until dark?"

"That's the plan". Guarnere said, "what's up with Babe?"

Murphy sighed quietly, "one of Bull's boys, Miller. We found him dead".

"Right". He nodded, "I'll have a word with him".

"Ah – not a harsh one". Murphy chided softly, "it's his first time in combat. You remember our first time?"

Guarnere crossed his arms, "I do, yeah".

"Just…go easy, alright? It's been one hell of a day".

He sighed and eventually nodded. "Rest your head, Murph. We don't 'wanna be losing you to the fucking aid station as well. I ain't watching Hughes".

Murphy smiled a little, "get lost, Guarnere. Go and find Bull".

…

By nightfall, everyone went looking for Bull, even a couple of other Companies too.

Murphy hung back, taking care of some of the squads who were left behind.

She wanted to go.

"You ain't coming". Toye told her, "your brains will fall out".

So, she remained in Tongelre.

They were hunkered down in a field by a wooded area. Two-miles outside of the city square in Eindhoven. Murphy was making her last rounds, it was nearing eleven, and the last of Bull's search party had just left the quiet spot of grass. Murphy figured she'd try and sleep for a few hours, her head was pretty sore, and she felt a little dizzy still.

However, there soon came a great noise. And the whole sky lit up in orange and red.

Eyes widening, Murphy sharply turned around.

The Germans were bombing Eindhoven. Air strike.

God, the Dutch had been so happy that same morning, relieved to see them.

For that morning, they were free and now, it came to a devastating end.

And that bombing would leave over two-hundred Dutch people dead and eight-hundred wounded. Their town was in shambles and the fires were so high, they could have touched the stars. Murphy witnessed this, with the others who stayed behind. It was a sight she'd never forget.

But she had to look away and continue down the line.

"Goodnight, Sarge". One of Guarnere's boys, Hayes, said to her.

"Try and get some rest". She told them.

That was her last foxhole and Murphy had been so busy checking in on everyone, that she'd forgotten to dig her own hole. Well, she could have always slept on the grass. But a hand was soon placed on her shoulder.

"You're with me and Nixon tonight".

Winters. An offer she couldn't refuse.

Murphy slid in next to Winters, he was in the middle with Nixon on the other side.

"Drink?"

Murphy leaned forwards, "what is it, sir?"

"Vat 69". Nixon said, holding out his flask.

"I better not, sir". She replied, "I don't think doc would approve".

Winters, who now noticed the bandage, took off her helmet. "Care to explain?"

"I flew into a building". Murphy responded evenly, "I'm fine".

He was on edge, tense and pissed off that they had to retreat.

Losing this wasn't a good feeling because the Dutch were suffering from this loss.

But it wasn't their fault. No way in hell, was it Easy Company's fault.

Murphy felt so strongly about that. They were outflanked by Tigers and infantry.

If anything, they were Goddamn lucky to be alive.

"Alright, that's enough". She whispered, taking her helmet back.

God, she hoped Nixon knew about them. She'd never have spoken to an officer in that way.

"We couldn't help what happened today". Murphy said, "and no one is to blame. Not us, not the dammed British donkeys – no one. So, we need to stop forcing blame upon ourselves and start thinking of ways to secure the next bridges and roads. And if that doesn't work, then it still wasn't our fault".

Nixon raised an eyebrow and took a swig from his flask.

Winters stared at her. His expression wasn't hard, in fact, it remained soft.

Murphy sighed quietly, "sorry". She whispered, "it's been a hard day".

He placed his hand on the side of her face, "you're right. It's no one's fault. And we'll win the next one".

She swallowed, "yeah, we will".

Lips twitching, Winters wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Murphy leaned into his side.

For a few moments, they remained quiet. The town was burning, right in front of their eyes. It was a sad sight still and it wasn't like they could avoid seeing it. But it wasn't their fault.

Murphy had another thing on her mind, something that played out in front of her like a silent movie. And she couldn't stop thinking about it because it was a hard slap in the face for her.

She felt Winters lips kiss the top of her head, while she felt a lump in her throat. And her head was painful now, aching from the side, all across her forehead and towards the other side. Little spots danced before her vision, Murphy wasn't sure if the fire was playing tricks on her, or if this head injury was messing her up. Either way, it was making her dizzy.

"What did Battalion Headquarters say?" Nixon asked, breaking the silence.

"They weren't smiling anymore". Winters mumbled.

He sighed, "always expecting the best, huh?"

"He got the best". He said, "and we gave it our best".

Still staring out, Nixon nodded slowly.

"He was only a boy". Murphy whispered.

Winters kissed the top of her head again.

They all felt that one.

And things were feeling too heavy. Not just her head but her whole body felt like led. And something was crushing against her chest, this huge weight, which might have flattened her into the dirt. Murphy rubbed her forehead, tears filled her eyes.

Those past few days, they were starting to take its toll.

Rubbing her eyes, she cleared her throat quietly.

She had to snap the hell out of it, or she'd never live to fight another week.

"Murphy?" Winters asked, very quietly.

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy scooted back and rested her head against his legs.

Frowning, he brushed his fingers across her cheek, before he started playing with her hair.

Curling up into a ball, Murphy closed her eyes.

If not today, maybe not tomorrow but maybe on the third day, things would get better.


	23. Chapter 23

Murphy didn't have a good night.

No one slept well because of the constant blazing and explosions coming from the town but on top of that, her head hurt to the high heavens.

Some of Bull's search party were beginning to return that morning. Without Bull.

Murphy, Winters and Nixon got out from the foxhole, hoping to see the Sargent.

It was very disheartening when Bull wasn't amongst the search parties.

The weather was fairly gloomy that morning, it had started to drizzle.

Murphy wrapped her arms around her chest, while she wondered over to Martin, who was just getting down from a truck, with Perconte, Luz and Floyd.

"Checked that road twice". Martin told her, "couldn't see him".

Murphy sighed, "he'll turn up, Johnny. It's Bull, for Christs sake".

"Good point". Perconte said, "anyhow, we can't leave without the fella".

"We have bigger news". John van Koojik said, who was standing behind them.

She turned around, facing him. "Yeah, what's that?"

"The Germans are going to attack Uden". He said, in a gruff voice. "I suspect, we'll need to head there to stop them".

"The sun has just started to come up". Martin muttered, "fucking Christ".

"Have you told Captain Winters?" She asked.

"I was on my way". Van Koojik said to her, "I will speak with your Intelligence officer".

Murphy cleared her throat, "good idea, yeah".

When he left, Martin gave her arm a tiny nudge.

"What's your problem with that guy?"

"Nothing". She mumbled, shaking her head. "Why? Did I come off that way?"

Martin shrugged, "a little, yeah".

Murphy sighed and looked over at her squad, who were sitting down and eating.

It was quiet that morning and the smoke from Eindhoven was wafting towards them, making the sky cloudy and grey. The fires had gone out during the early hours of the morning. The towns buildings and houses were burnt to a crisp and the people along with it.

Those Germans were ruthless.

"Hey guys". Luz was soon standing next to them, while they looked over at the town. "Some morning, huh?"

"You bet". Martin said quietly.

Murphy frowned, "they must hate us".

"I bet".

She looked at them, "but it's not our fault".

Martin raised an eyebrow, "no?"

Murphy shook her head, "come on, Johnny. How is this our fault? We were outnumbered. How could we fend off all those tanks and infantry?"

Luz cleared his throat, "they won't be waving orange flags at us now".

"No, they won't". She agreed quietly, "we'll get the next one".

"How can you be so sure?" Martin asked.

"I don't know, Johnny". Murphy whispered, "just call it a hunch or something".

Bull showed up with Hoobler, Webster, Garcia, Cobb and Hashey.

Everyone was happy and relieved to see him again.

Bull had taken cover in a barn with two Dutch people, who helped him remove a piece of exploding tank burst from his shoulder. Apparently, Bull had to kill a German with his bayonet. And no one could believe he had gotten out of that. Nuenen was still a hornet's nest. But all in all, the Sargent had been resourceful, used his brain and got out of that ordeal alive.

And now, everyone was fired up and ready to leave.

Bull's return had lifted the morale, his boys had missed him a lot.

They loved Bull to bits.

"Squad! Get up!" Murphy called, when everyone was getting on the trucks. "You have five seconds, and when I reach to five-"

"we're here!"

Murphy smirked, "well, I'm glad that trick still works. Get up, let's go".

Uden was twenty-miles away and they'd need to pass through Veghel in order to get there.

They did feel a little tense, after what they had endured yesterday.

No one wanted a repeat of that.

But a job was a job, it didn't leave much time for opinions.

That's when training really kicked in. Even if something was at high risk, they didn't think of it, they didn't ask why – they just did it and hoped they'd make it out alive. There was no time to ask why they were doing this and that, once the briefing was handed to them, the NCO's had to make sure their squads were ready to move out and give them the briefing. Murphy was lucky in the sense that she only had one, Guarnere had three, Martin had three and Toye had been given an extra one when the squads Sargent had to be evacuated.

"Hey, Bill?"

"What?"

Murphy looked at him, "who's leading our Platoon?"

He shrugged, "guess it's me for now".

Murphy nodded slowly, "good. We don't want some shitty replacement officer coming in".

Guarnere smirked, "who? Like Peacock?"

She snorted, "you almost feel bad for him, eh?"

"Good thing we got the best NCO's in the whole fucking army".

Murphy smiled. After what they had been through, it was good to know their minds hadn't changed. Because Guarnere was right, they were the best non-commissioned officers in the whole army, don't let anyone tell you different. They were fierce, wild and could think on their feet when shit hit the fan.

And just like any other road, they kept their eyes peeled.

For the most part, the journey towards Uden was fine.

However, just as they were passing Veghel, they were cut off by a German Panzer force. They slammed right through their column, splitting Easy in two. One group, led by Winters, headed towards Uden and a very small group of eight others, led by Guarnere, were forced into Veghel.

They were pinned down, three-miles southwest of the town. The Germans had circled Veghel with tanks and were shooting the living hell out of everything. Bullets were whizzing past them, flying over their heads and lifting dirt by their boots. And everything around them was exploding. It was pure hell.

Murphy, Malarkey, Webster, Hoobler, Guarnere and three replacements were alone from the rest of Easy. And to strengthen their force, Guarnere talked with an officer with Fox Company, who told them to hunker down, and they'd give them the word if they could join up.

It wasn't just soldiers dying, the people from town were as well.

The eight of them sprinted through the streets, trying to figure out where they could hide out.

They were running out of time.

The Germans soon started shelling the hell out of the town.

Everyone was screaming, kids, women, men – everyone.

Houses were being torn into shreds, buildings were collapsing.

And they couldn't do a damn thing to stop all this.

Guarnere told them to start digging, and you'd better be digging fast.

Heavier stuff was surely on its way. Murphy didn't know it could get any worse.

They were digging so fast; your head was surely spin.

And if given the option, their foxholes would have been thirty feet deep.

The firing was coming from all sides, they were surrounded.

With the foxholes completed, they all hunkered down.

Murphy was with Guarnere and Malarkey. Somehow, the three of them squished in together. They had their heads down, while everything around them went up in flames and white flashes of fury. And to their horror, the Luftwaffle started to bomb them from the sky.

"Oh, shit!" Webster screamed from behind them.

 **Boom!**

You've never heard anything like it. This was the worst shelling they'd ever experienced.

The whole earth was shaking up a storm, while the sky was painted in white and then orange.

The Dutch were scared but so were the eight soldiers hiding in their foxholes.

Murphy was petrified. She had her arms locked around Guarnere so tight, you'd think that man was about to fly off and leave them. Her entire body was trembling, as if she'd submerged herself into icy water. And while the Luftwaffle was hitting them from the sky, the SS were shelling them from the ground. You couldn't lift your head, you couldn't get out – you were trapped.

Murphy had her eyes closed, but she could still see the flashes of fury from under her eyelids.

And while that was happening to them there, they wondered if the others were getting hammered as well. They didn't know that the Germans had just come after this town, they figured they were shelling the hell out of the rest. But they weren't. The rest of Easy had heavy hearts, thinking their eight guys were either dead, severely wounded or taken for prisoner. And they tried to get to them from the get-go, but they couldn't get past the road without something trying to hit them.

Malarkey's arms were soon wrapped around her waist, head buried into her back.

Guarnere was at the front, head low but mindful of his two troopers behind him. And he knew they couldn't stay outside, they'd need another plan. But moving right at that moment wasn't an option. At the next break, he'd get everyone up to find better cover. These Dutch folks, they had been prepared for an ambush for years. Under their houses, they all had bunkers, or cellars. And Guarnere wanted to move his guys to a cellar.

But for now, all they could do was wait in silence.

There was no use in talking or screaming, no one could hear you.

It was shell after shell. Nightmare after nightmare.

Murphy was glad Winters wasn't here and she hoped he and her friends were okay. But it was so unclear at the moment, she was still under the impression that they were enduring the same trauma. And Murphy's heart snapped in two. She buried her face into Guarnere's back, trying not to think about it but it was so hard. She just wanted to see him and everyone else again.

 _I'm going to die._

Water had started to fill up their foxholes, the gates opened, and rain poured down on them.

Murphy didn't know how long this shelling lasted.

No one cared, they just wanted out.

When there was a break, Guarnere got everyone up.

"Let's go – come on!"

It was dark. The Germans had been shelling them all day.

They found a house, close to an orchard and Guarnere pulled open the door. Everyone got inside and Guarnere spotted a trap door laying flat on the ground. He lifted it up, a few people down in the cellar started to scream, thinking they were Germans. But once they saw their uniforms, they sooner relaxed.

"To the back, come on". Guarnere's voice softened, once he saw the look on his guys faces.

Murphy figured they must have looked shocked to the very bone.

And when she sat down, she drew her legs up, wrapped her arms around them and continued to shake and tremble. She wasn't alone, Hoobler, Webster and the replacements held similar positions. And Murphy wondered if being down here maybe wasn't a good idea because the shelling's soon started up again and if this house collapsed, they'd all die. Not only that but the Germans could easily barge in and take them for prisoner.

The only good ending was getting out alive and seeing everyone else again.

Down in the cellar with them were a Dutch family and their neighbours from the north fringe of the battle line. They were crying, praying, wondering about their friends and loved ones. Guarnere was praying quietly under his breath too, Malarkey was staring straight ahead. It was surreal. Murphy couldn't believe they had made it this far. But boy, was she glad.

The house rattled with each shelling, dust fell down from the ceiling.

Murphy stopped looking after a while. If the house was going to collapse, her staring at it wouldn't stop it from happening. They had no control on what happened next down here. But it didn't make it any easier to live with. Because having no control, was the hardest part.

Guarnere wrapped his arm around her, "Murph, I'm 'gonna get you back to him".

She closed her eyes and pursed her lips together.

"They're fine, I swear". He whispered, "the Krauts are only interested in us".

"You don't know that". Murphy replied, voice brittle.

"You know I fucking do". Guarnere whispered, more fiercely this time. "Would I ever lie to you, Murph? Huh? Have I ever fucking lied to you?"

She shook her head, while a tear rolled down her cheek.

Sighing quietly, Guarnere pulled her into his side.

"Are you scared?" She whispered.

"You bet, Murph".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy pressed her face into his chest. "Then you're right about them".

Guarnere took off her helmet, wrapped his other arm around her and placed his cheek on the top of her head. Malarkey leaned into her other side.

"What do we do, Bill?" He asked him quietly.

"Malark, no matter what we do, we go out as we started, we go fighting".

Malarkey nodded.

"It's 'gonna be fine".

Hoobler and Webster soon scooted over to them, replacements not far behind.

Guarnere looked at the seven of them, "you hear me? It's 'gonna be fine".

Though, even the Sargent had his doubts but for his guys, he'd remain positive.

"I wish I wrote to my mom". Private Ferris Rice, a replacement, croaked tearfully. "Told her I loved her, let her hug me whenever she wanted".

Guarnere looked at him, "how old are you, kid?"

He sniffed, "seventeen".

"You're 'gonna write to your 'ma again". He said, "and you're 'gonna tell her about this night and how lucky you are to be fucking alive, got it?"

Ferris nodded and wiped his eyes.

Webster placed a hand on his shoulder, "don't beat yourself up, Rice. We were all asses at your age".

Hoobler snorted softly, "shit – I know I was".

A particularly bad shell hit close by.

Everyone looked up, even Murphy.

The house rattled, shaking dramatically but all that fell were tiny bits of debris.

Everyone let out quiet sighs of relief.

Malarkey reached into his musette bag and pulled out a tin. Inside, were cookies. Only three left, but he broke them up enough, so everyone had a piece each. And they all munched on their part of the sweet treat, feeling a sense of comfort. It didn't lift the mood all the way, but it kept them content for the next few minutes.

"Everyone got enough to drink and smoke?" Guarnere asked.

"Dropped my smokes".

Murphy reached into her bag, tossing Hoobler a pack of cigarettes. "I don't smoke".

His lips twitched softly, "thanks, Murph".

"Um – you got anymore, Murph?" Webster asked.

She nodded and brought out another packet, handing it to him.

"How many have you got?" Malarkey asked, with a tiny smirk.

Murphy shrugged, "loads". She replied, "give them to my lads".

"Lucky sons of a bitches". Guarnere mumbled.

The cellar was spacious, with thick wooden beams above their heads.

It was dimly lit by candles, the bulb above them didn't work.

And the Dutch were on the other side of the room. Children, who looked between the ages of three and twelve, were huddled into their mothers and fathers, while the elderly sat quietly, praying for their family's safety. The eight troops didn't pay much attention to them, focusing mainly on their friends. And from that, they formed a very tight bond.

Murphy turned away from the Dutch and looked back at Guarnere.

"They're gone, aren't they?"

Guarnere sighed, "Murph…I 'dunno anymore".

They could be the only remaining guys from Easy left.

If they got out of this alive.

…

The shelling went on all night, morning and quietened down in the afternoon.

"Malark, Murph, come with me". Guarnere said to them, "let's go sightseeing".

They put on their helmets and walked up the stairs.

When they reached the landing, the three of them headed towards the front door.

Murphy held her breath, while Guarnere slowly turned the handle and swung the door open.

They crept outside, taking cover behind half torn down houses, walls – anywhere they could. Though it had quietened down, they were still surrounded, a shell erupted a block away from them and bullets pinged close by every now and then.

Safer, but still not safe.

And when they rounded a corner and looked down a street, they saw the most outstanding sight. A British tank crew, parked on the road, drinking and enjoying their four o'clock tea.

They saw other guys from Fox and Dog Companies too, while they emerged from their covers.

Murphy clenched her hands into fists, "those – bastards!"

"Murph!" Guarnere snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her to face him.

"They're drinking tea, Bill!" She expressed, "they're drinking fucking tea! Like a bunch of dammed fucking useless donkeys!"

"Okay, I get it". He whispered, "but you've 'gotta calm down".

Murphy clenched her jaw, breathing heavily.

Malarkey frowned, "Murph? We're 'gonna get out of here".

"I don't care". She then said lowly, "who gives a shit? We're all that's left".

Guarnere could have slapped her, "Murph!" He snapped instead, "don't let me ever hear you say that again, you stupid mick!" He grabbed her shoulders, "I ain't letting you give up. No way in hell, no one's giving up. Okay?"

She closed her eyes, staring down at her boots.

Guarnere gave her a tiny shake, "okay?"

"Yeah – right, fine".

"She has a point". Malarkey mumbled, "drinking Goddamn tea".

Guarnere huffed, "right? So, let's show those Limey's what we're made of, huh? Let's get the fuck 'outta this town".

With the help of the 506, the British tanks and British Planes, they finally started to push those Germans back. It was a long day. Eight troops were back inside their foxholes, firing out at the Germans on foot, while the Brits up in the sky took care of the Luftwaffle. The Panzer were fighting against the Brits, tank on tank action.

They blaster each other, many men died. The fires from the exploded tanks caused smoke to burn their eyes and coat their lungs. If they weren't coughing, they were shooting.

They were facing a lot of Germans.

Murphy, like her friends next to her, fired back with such uncontrollable rage.

They all thought their friends were dead in Uden.

And there was no stopping them from going all out that day.

"Let's get the fuck 'outta here!" Guarnere told everyone.

And they did, while the British from the sky offered them air cover – they ran.

Murphy had never sprinted so fast in her life.

It was five-miles to Uden, they could have run all the way.

But as soon as they were two-miles out of Veghel, they all soon collapsed onto the side of the road. Whether it was fear or just exhaustion, they sat down there and breathed heavily. The eight of them wondered what they'd do if their friends were all dead. Murphy couldn't imagine it, she couldn't imagine being transferred to another Company or unit. It was too much to bear.

After sitting there for several minutes, Guarnere got them all up.

It took them almost two hours to reach Uden.

And the first person they saw was Lipton.

The eight of them ran over to this man, who got the shock of his life.

Guarnere and Malarkey were talking all at once, telling Lipton everything and asking how the others were.

"God, we thought you were all dead!"

"You!" Lipton exclaimed, "we thought you were dead – Jesus Christ!"

Guarnere then asked, "where's the Captain?"

"In that barn over there – are you all okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine". Hoobler said.

Lipton shook his head, "come on, let's get you all settled".

Malarkey frowned, "where's Murph?"

"Don't worry about her". Guarnere told him.

Murphy yanked open that barn door and stepped inside.

It slammed shut behind her.

The three officers inside all turned towards the noise.

And whatever Winters was holding, crashed onto the ground.

Murphy ran, bolted, over to him.

He met her half way and engulfed her into a tight embrace, that caused her to be swept off her feet. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing his cheek, neck – anything she could get her lips on. Winters held her tightly, head buried into her thick locks. Murphy locked her legs around his waist and pulled back, placing her hands onto the side of his face.

They stared deeply into each other.

Murphy eyes were shinning with unleashed tears.

It was a feeling like no other.

She thought they were dead. She thought they'd have died out there.

And the relief was too much to carry, it fell out of her in the form of tears, which were now rolling down her cheeks, like a fast river.

"I thought you died". Murphy croaked, "I thought I lost you – everyone".

Winters lips quivered, "we saw it all".

She pressed their lips together, in a quick heat of passion.

Murphy then buried her face into the crook of his neck, while her body shook from holding back sobs, which threatened to explode from her chest. Being back in his arms again, it brought back hope, of a life on that farm once more. They had escaped death, somehow, they survived.

And her eyes stayed wide open, looking passed Nixon and Welsh, and towards the walls of the barn. While the memory of being hit with artillery for twenty-four hours, played out in front of her, as if she was still there.

Her feet were placed back onto the ground, her arms lowered to his chest.

Winters still had a hold of her, because her knees were bashing against each other.

Murphy didn't even notice Nixon and Welsh leave, giving them time to be alone.

It wasn't until he placed his hands on the side of her face, did she suddenly snap out of it.

She had to have him, right then.

Murphy grabbed his collar and their lips met again.

Winters kept a hold of her face.

The kiss was extremely intense. And they didn't break apart for a few minutes.

When she pulled away from the kiss, Murphy took a step back. And just like their first time, she took off her jacket and started to unbutton her shirt. The clothes landed on the ground, Murphy placed her hands on Winters chest, slowly taking off the buttons on his shirt. Pushing the shirt back, she then took it off and tossed it to the side. Murphy reached up, pushing his hair back, before tugging on the ends. Winters picked her up, she locked her legs around him.

Up against the wall once more, they couldn't get their trousers off quick enough.

Winters had his hands all over her, kissing her neck.

Murphy dug her nails into his skin, back arching in pleasure.

It was different this time, because though it mattered previously, it really mattered at that moment. At that moment, they were safe and back in each other's arms. It could have had a devastating end, someone could have died. But they were alive and by showing how grateful they were, they made love.

It was glorious, beautiful and spellbinding.

And when it ended, they continued to stare at each other.

Murphy pressed their foreheads together.

"I love you, Dick Winters".

He exhaled shakily. Yesterday, he didn't think he'd ever hear those words again.

"I love you, Murphy Flynn".

Murphy breathed in deeply, kissing him again on the lips.

When they broke apart, Murphy was set back down on the ground.

Those moments always felt so short. But Winters had an entire Company to look out for and Murphy needed to see her friends. Only Guarnere and the officers knew about them, to her knowledge anyway.

They got dressed.

Murphy stuck her hair back up into a bun.

Winters eyes never left her.

"You're okay?"

She turned around and faced him, "a little".

His face turned into a frown. "I wanted to get you, Murphy. I tried so hard".

And her face fell. Murphy walked over to him, placing her hand on the side of his face. "And I don't doubt that for a second, love".

Closing his eyes, Winters took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Something always brings me back to you". She whispered, "I wanted to give up". Murphy said, voice breaking a little. "I thought I had lost you and everyone else. I thought we were walking back to an empty Company…but something told me, you were there. And I had to believe that boy from South Philly".

Winters smiled, though it wavered. "Guarnere?"

Murphy nodded, eyes filling with tears again. "Yeah – he's nosey. He found out before my birthday and I'm glad, Dick. Because without him, I'd be dead. We'd all be dead". A tear rolled down her cheek, "it was…we were so scared".

He wiped that tear away with his thumb.

"They kept shelling us…from the sky, from the ground. We were surrounded. Just us". Murphy sniffed, "we were in a foxhole and then Bill got us in this cellar with these Dutch people. They were crying and praying the whole time". She shook her head, "can't blame them, we were near that state".

Kissing her forehead, Winters wrapped her back into a tight embrace.

Murphy pressed her face against his chest.

Easy had come out nearly unscratched from that ordeal but it had pushed them emotionally to their limit. For those who got out of Veghel, they were shaken to the core. Heffron had never seen a look like it, they looked distant, with a dead stare, like they'd seen a ghost. And when he saw Guarnere, he had asked the obvious question.

"What the hell happened?"

"Babe, you ain't never ever seen artillery fire in all your life. You couldn't come out of your hole, you couldn't do anything. They were hitting us from planes, 88s, everything. It was bad".

It was a rare moment of a relief, when they saw each other again. A moment that reminded them never to take each other for granted. Because you never knew when your time was up, but having cheated death like that, they knew that next time, perhaps they wouldn't be so lucky.

Something switched on inside of Murphy after that. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing. But it had her on thin ice. She was tense, always looking up towards the sky or around corners, after that event.

But in that barn, with Winters holding her so tightly, she was back home.

When Murphy left the barn, she walked down the street and soon had arms around her.

"Jesus, Murph".

It was Toye.

Murphy hugged him back. "Hey, Joe".

Sighing, he pulled back, holding her at arm's length. "You know how fucking worried we were?"

She nodded, "yup – I do, yeah".

More of them greeted her.

They hugged her, clapped her shoulder and gave her pats on the back.

Murphy felt herself tear-up a little.

She was an emotional wreck that afternoon.

But seeing her squad again, almost had her in a flood of tears.

Poor Hughes was crying, while he fought the urge to hug her.

Murphy set her lips into a thin line, holding back her tears. She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're fine, pal".

"Jesus, Sarge". He sniffed, wiping his eyes. "We thought we lost you".

Carson placed a hand on her back, "we're glad you're okay, Murph".

Giving the three of them a nod, Murphy let go of Hughes's shoulder. "Let's dig in".

It started to drizzle that night, while they all dug in.

Most of Easy dug shallow foxholes.

But the eight troopers who just had the daylights shelled out of them, dug up that dirt until they hit water. Murphy got into her foxhole, pulled her raincoat around her and sat there for a few moments, just contemplating on how cold the weather felt that night.

And then Toye got in beside her.

Her shoulders dropped in relief.

"Pretty deep, Murph".

Snorting softly, Murphy leaned into his side and closed her eyes.

It didn't get better on the second day and part of their third was spent in terror.

But for now, they were safe.

And hopefully, things would get brighter.


	24. Chapter 24

Operation Market Garden.

It was another day for Easy, heading head on into an attack.

A German force cut the road again, north of Veghel.

Easy were intact, just north in Uden and were sent out to attack the Panzer until from the east.

Like always, they were working along side the British tanks. And since their ordeal in Veghel, Murphy and the rest didn't seem to mind them much anymore. They had saved their lives in that town, despite drinking afternoon tea at first. Murphy had actually apologised to the guys who were in that tank a few days later.

"You're alright, I'm sorry".

They laughed in return, "are we really damned donkeys?"

"Not that day you weren't".

It was the 25th of September. You couldn't believe how quickly the days went by.

Time didn't seem to matter, dates were lost in the wind.

Nine days they had been in Holland.

Operation Market Garden had flipped right over.

No one had expected anything like that to happen.

As of right now, Easy marched down that road with the tanks. And when they reached a pine thicket, several hundred yards off the Veghel-Uden highway, suddenly from the west, a Tiger emerged, like a lion, who had been carefully hunting its prey. The Brits tried to sneak there way through the thick trees, all five of them lined up.

2nd Platoon spaced out between the tanks for an assault across the field towards the highway. They were leading this attack with Winters. And the Captain was in font, staring out towards the field and to the highway. But this proved to be a great mistake.

The Tiger spotted them.

And he picked off each of the five.

 **Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!**

Everyone dove away from those tanks, while bits of searing hot metal fell all around them.

When the first one got hit, Malarkey got a chunk of metal slice down his leg.

When the second tank exploded, Carson took a hit to his arm.

And when the third one got hit, Murphy almost landed up a tree.

The Brits from inside the tanks were screaming in agony.

Murphy, Malarkey and a few others started to help them out.

All the while 88's, machine-gun fire and grenades were thrown at them.

Winters had soon set about getting everyone into position. The mortar squads started firing out across the field, the rifle squads were set in low ditches and the machine-gunners were set up on the sides and edges.

The Brits who came out from the tanks were panicked.

Some of them were on fire and the commander's hand had been blown off.

They tossed blankets and sand over them, trying to smother the fire.

It was chaos.

And they had to leave the men for the medics, while they raced across the field and into the open. Machine-guns poured into them, like the rain falling from the sky. Carson was up and moving, Jackson had wrapped a bandage around his arm quickly, claiming he was fine. And Hughes was right by her side. The sand which covered this field would occasionally smack them in the eye, from the bullets flicking the grains up.

However, one guy in particular buried his head in the sand.

He was a Lieutenant and completely froze up in fear.

Guarnere was screaming at him, "you're supposed to be leading the damn Platoon!"

Murphy got her squad into position, once they were close enough.

They got down onto their stomachs, firing out from a small uphill.

It was a great position, they had clear sight of the enemy who were on foot.

And what an odd time to just admire her squad for a moment.

God, all that beasting really paid off.

Malarkey and Guarnere were hard at it with the mortar squads.

Once Guarnere gave them the range and distance, they started to take out the enemy machine-gunners, who were giving them a lot of flak. And soon enough, the Tiger who had made quick work of the Sherman's pulled out. And it could have all ended badly for them, if the German machine-guns weren't useless. The crown in the road blocked its line of vision towards 2nd Platoon. In this case, they could thank a Dutch engineer who crowned a road for drainage.

So, with the machine-gunners covering them, they all advanced forward.

Murphy was yelling at her guys to keep on shooting.

"Don't stop unless I tell you to!"

It was just like back in training, they sooner learned.

She was great at keeping them focused, they didn't have time to think about anything else. Not with Murphy constantly communicating with them throughout, all the while she was shooting with them. Multitasking, it was a great trait.

But eventually, they had to pull-back.

More tanks showed-up, and with their Sherman's mostly gone, they had no other choice.

Heffron, Toye, Liebgott and the rest of the machine-gunners covered them.

And once the rifle squads were back, they covered the machine-gunners, while they fell-back.

They kept that going until they reached the edge of the woods.

They continued to exchange fire into the night, where they raked the railroad. Nixon had brought up 81mm mortars from Battalion HQ, Guarnere and Malarkey got to work. For the whole night, tanks continued to burn, and ammunition continued to explode.

Guarnere made his way towards her, "need your trick".

Murphy looked up from her rife, she was putting in a new round. "Eh?"

"They want a prisoner".

"Can't Joe do it again?"

"Busy with Babe and the rest". Guarnere said to her, "from here, we have movement two hundred and fifty yards from the east. Just one will do. Winters asked me to get a squad, I thought you'd be the best option".

Murphy sighed quietly, "I can't take Gordy, he's injured".

"Just the three of you will be fine".

She agreed to go, if Guarnere said she could do it, then she probably could.

Besides, Murphy could never say no to him.

After giving Jackson and Hughes a quick briefing, they collected their weapons and ammo, before setting off east. The forest was thick, and loud enough to muffle their cover. The line here wasn't stretched thin, so finding Germans was going to be easy.

However, when they moved at exactly two hundred and fifty yards, Murphy could spot at least ten of them fifty yards away. Signalling for her squad to get down, they took cover behind the thick trees and branches. Murphy was going to need to come up with the best possible plan she could think of. And it all came to her in a matter of minutes, when she thought back to one particular event in Aldbourne.

Reaching into her musette bag, Murphy pulled out a smoke grenade.

She had one, Guarnere had slipped it into her bag for safe keeping before they dropped.

It was purple, her favourite colour.

"When I set this off, you're going to toss grenades quickly, coming from all sides". She told them quietly, "open fire, pull-back. I'll be right behind you".

Jackson gave her a worried look, "are you sure?"

She nodded, "this'll work, trust me".

Murphy pulled the clip back and tossed the smoke grenade fifty yards to the left.

Before it got a chance to set off, she bolted around the back of the Germans.

When purple smoke clouded the area, the Germans started to fire out.

Grandes went off from the left and right and after, short burst of fire from their rifles.

 **Bap-bap-bap.**

Murphy managed to sneak up behind the Germans and took her pick.

She grabbed one German around the waist, he fell back in shock, dropping his rifle.

Placing her rifle to his temple, Murphy pressed a finger towards her lips.

Staring up at her, blinking, the young officer nodded.

The other Germans had no idea, they were confused by the burst of fire coming from Hughes and Jackson, who were sneaking from one tree to another, blasting out random shots. Murphy got the German onto his feet, placing a hand across his mouth, with her gun up to his head, and moved him away from the rest of the Germans.

They were yelling, hollering and cursing in their native tongue.

Murphy could only imagine the vast confusion.

Especially when the firing stopped so suddenly.

Good, her squad had pulled-back.

And just like she promised, one hundred yards away, Murphy met up with them.

They brought the prisoner over to Winters and Nixon.

Captain Nixon was enjoying a bottle of schnapps.

"Good job". He said, "you got us an officer, Murph".

Murphy's blending in skills came to use, and her quiet squad.

They made quite the team.

The next morning, Easy moved back out without any resistance.

They covered the same three hundred and fifty yards to the highway, and they marched back to Uden in the pouring rain, not arriving into town until dark. And by then, they were exhausted. Winters told them all to dig in for the night. After fighting for ten days, they were given a break.

Finally.

For how long, nobody knew.

And for a lot, nobody cared because Perconte suddenly yelled out, "mail!" And everyone ran over to him, like starved orphans from Oliver Twist. He'd call out your name, hand you your letter and you'd run back into your foxhole, reading it alone. It was great for some, sad for others. Sometimes, you'd be standing there with twenty guys and Perconte only had seven letters left. You'd hope one was for you but hope the others got it as well. It was weird like that. And if someone didn't get a letter, the others would read their letters to you, sharing news from back home. In Easy, you were bonded like that – you shared everything together. Cookies, candy bars, no one was selfish. It meant a great deal to everyone. They always had your back.

And for the first time, Murphy decided to read her letter from home.

She sat in her foxhole and opened the letter up.

It was raining, she was under her poncho with the flashlight on.

 _"Murphy,_

 _I hope this letter reaches wherever you are. They don't tell us much here at the home front. I hope you're well, I hope your spirits are up and know that God is always watching out for you. Robbie and Conor are always staring at the picture of you and Noah. They miss you both a lot. And I keep telling them that they're older sister is one of the bravest people on this earth and will forever be a hero and one of God's greatest soldiers._

 _I cannot express how proud of you I am. It fills my heart up, makes me cry just thinking about all you're doing for this world, pet. But I suppose you'd want to know of the happenings here._

 _Well, we're still living with Granny. It's not so bad here but with all the money you're sending back, we can finally put a deposit down on a house. The twins will get a separate room, this house is up and down, two stories, Murphy. Can you believe it? It even has its own bathroom, with a bath and everything. The walls aren't damp, we have a back garden and the kitchen looks out towards a pasture full of horses. It's a dream come true and I thank God every day for giving me you, Murphy Flynn. Without you, this wouldn't be possible._

 _I'm afraid it'll just be the three of us. Your father passed away in August, shortly after your birthday. He got knocked down by a bus, while he was leaving the pub. They brought him up to the hospital, but the doctors were unable to revive him. And he died an hour after they admitted him. I'm not sure how you'll take this news, Murphy but please, know that he is in a better place where he'll no longer have to live with the guilt of letting us all down._

 _No matter where you are, know that I'm sending you a cuddle to keep you warm. If it's raining, the sun will surely shine again and if not tomorrow, or the next day, on the third day, things will get better._

 _We all love you, Murphy, to the very bones of us._

 _And when you win this war, we'll be waiting for you._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Mammy, Conor and Robbie_

 _Xxxx"._

Murphy read over that letter more than five times, until she had taken in every last word.

Her dad was dead.

And her family were moving into a proper house for the first time in their life.

Murphy was shaking.

She placed a hand across her eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

That was a lot to take in.

"Murph".

Murphy sighed, "Bill, get lost the now".

"What – hey, what's going on in there?"

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy put her letter away, turned off the flashlight and pulled back the poncho. Guarnere was standing by her foxhole, setting her a firm stare.

"Telling me to get lost". He grumbled, "like that'll happen, you mick".

Murphy, eyebrows still forming a tiny glare, looked away from him.

The guy sighed and eventually got down beside her. "You get a letter?"

"Yeah". She mumbled.

"Knock it off, alright? You 'wanna get killed?"

He was very opposed to guys getting sentimental out in combat. And rightly so. But they were off the line, still in occupied territory but they weren't expected to do objectives or secure any roads and bridges.

Murphy looked back at him, "Bill…we've been fighting for ten days, you hear any Germans right this minute?"

Guarnere sighed heavily, "nope".

"Alright, good". She whispered, "so, let me just think for a second".

"You're fucking lucky I love you, Murph".

Murphy snorted softly, leaning back against the wet mud.

Guarnere bit his lip, "alright, what'd it say?"

She swallowed, a perplexed expressing crossing her face. "Da's dead".

"Jesus". He hissed, "Jesus Christ – really?"

Murphy nodded, "got hit by a bus, drunk as sixteen skunks".

"Shit, Murph".

"Yeah". She mumbled, "it's alright. I think".

Guarnere pulled a face, "what?"

Murphy shrugged, "I 'dunno, Bill. I'm not sure what to think of it".

He stared at this girl, thinking maybe she had lost her mind.

"I mean…he was an arse, Bill". She said, "beyond a fucking arse".

"He gave you that black eye, huh?" Guarnere asked her, "when you came back from Brooklyn?"

Murphy nodded faintly.

"I fucking knew it". He hissed, "that's why you asked me for your family, to stay with my 'ma and Pop – I fucking knew it".

Sighing, she rubbed the back of her neck. "That's proper messed me".

Guarnere's expression softened, "yeah, no doubt, Murph".

She shook her head, "what the fuck do I do, Bill?"

"I don't know, Murph". He said quietly, "would tear me apart if I lost my Pop but he's a good guy, you know?"

Murphy bit the inside of her cheek, "yeah?"

Guarnere nodded, "shit, Murph. You know he's a good fucking guy".

"Yeah, I know, Bill".

"Your 'ma?"

Murphy huffed softly, "they bought a house with the money I sent them".

Guarnere's face brightened, "really?"

She nodded, "yeah…a proper fucking house. Two bedrooms, a garden, two stories – no damp walls, no issues. A good fucking house".

"Murph, that's-"

"great, I know". Murphy cut him off, with a sharp burst of breath. Shaking her head, she then covered her eyes again.

Guarnere stared at her, had she really lost her mind now?

"Intense stuff, Murph". He mumbled quietly.

"Y-yeah". Murphy croaked, breath hitching slightly.

Sighing, Guarnere wrapped an arm around her. "Are you 'gonna start crying on me, Murph?"

A breathless laugh left her, though it sounded more like a sob.

Shaking his head, he pulled her into his side.

"You keep this to yourself". Murphy said, voice breaking.

Guarnere felt his heart tug a little, "right".

A few tears did end up rolling down her cheek.

And she was quick to wipe them away, with her jacket sleeve.

Guarnere rubbed her arm, "Murph?"

Murphy sniffed, "yup?"

"I'm proud of you".

She sighed, "don't start, Bill".

Guarnere smiled a little, "I am…and you know I don't tell the guys that, right? Man, you were in Joe's squad not too long ago, with Lip – Jesus Christ, it's flown in".

Clearing her throat, she pulled away from his side and rubbed her eyes. "Gordy's at the aid station still. He's getting promoted".

He smiled at that, "yeah? Good for him, huh?"

"Not for me". She mumbled, "I've just lost a damn good Corporal".

"You'll get another guy". Guarnere told her, "won't be as good as your other boys but you'll shape him up good like Hughes and Jackson". He then added, "I bet you'll get promoted soon as well, Staff Sargent, you'll get another squad".

"Oh, no". Murphy shook her head, "I don't want a promotion. I'm content with my squad".

Guarnere laughed quietly, "Murph – if you get given a promotion, you'd best be accepting it".

She smiled then, looking at him. "What the hell are you 'gonna do about it, Wild Bill?"

"I'll give you holy hell". He said to her, smiling back.

Murphy gave his chest a pat, "thanks, Bill".

"Yeah…no worries, Murph". Guarnere said, "I remember how you was there for me after I found out about Henry".

She frowned slightly at the memory.

"A while ago now, huh?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah – yeah, it was".

Guarnere gave her arm a squeeze, "go and see him, Murph".

…

She walked into the barn, where CP was.

Winters, Nixon and Welsh were sitting at a table. They were drinking schnapps, Winters wasn't, Murphy was sure you weren't meant to drink the alcohol like water, but they sure guzzled it down like it wasn't burning their throats.

She walked over to the table, very quietly, they didn't notice her.

Murphy took the bottle, Nixon pulled a face.

She took a sip and pulled a face, "Jesus – that's rancid".

"Yeah – thank you, sir". Welsh grinned.

She sighed, "sorry, sir. The lads keep on banging on about it".

Winters smiled a little and looked up at her, "everything alright, Murphy?"

Murphy cleared her throat, "right, yeah – fine".

Nixon kicked a chair out from under the table, "take a take, Sargent".

She sat down, pulling the chair in. "Thanks, sir".

"How about some Vat?" He offered, bringing out his flask. "You look – well, you could probably use a drink, huh?"

Murphy sighed, "it's been a long ten days, sir". She agreed, "what do we take away from this?"

"Too many Germans, Brits got held up". Nixon mumbled. "Everything had to be timed perfectly in order for this to work, there was too much stopping, too much inefficiency, not enough of a push".

"They stopped for tea in every town". Murphy muttered, "did I tell you? After our shelling in Veghel, we rounded the street and these Brits were sitting on their tanks, drinking tea. I started screaming at them, Bill had to drag me away".

Winters pulled a slightly amused and surprised face, "you yelled?"

"Yeah". She whispered, "didn't know I was bloody capable of yelling".

The three officers chuckled quietly at that.

"Murph, I wish we'd seen that". Welsh said.

Murphy snorted softly, shaking her head. "I was fired up, sir".

"Don't blame you". He said, "I'd be getting on at them too".

Murphy looked at Winters, "how many?"

He cleared his throat, with a tiny sigh. "Twenty-two causalities".

"In then days?"

He nodded, "yeah". Winters answered, "in ten days".

Murphy sighed and took the flask from Nixon, drinking back a few sips. Coughing softly, she passed it back to him, "ouch".

Winters placed a hand on the small of her back.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "so, what happens now?"

"No idea". Nixon replied, "we wait".

This wasn't a fun party.

Murphy raised a tiny smile, "my 'mam and brothers are moving into a house".

Winters smiled at that, "they are?"

She nodded, "yeah…they saved up the money I sent them, it's a big house. Twins will get their own bedroom, 'mam will have a garden to grow flowers. It looks over a pasture full of horses".

"That's brilliant news, Murphy". He told her softly, pressing a kiss on her cheek.

Murphy smiled, taking his hand. "Yeah, it is".

Winters the cleared his throat, "your dad, Murphy?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "He's dead".

The schnapps bottle fell out of Welsh's hand, "Jesus – sorry".

Murphy's lips twitched, "you've got a little spill, sir".

"You just dropped a bomb, Murph". He said, wiping the spilt liquid from the table with a rag.

"It's fine".

Winters placed a hand on the side of her face, gently turning her head to face him.

"It's fine". Murphy repeated softly, when their eyes met. "With every beautiful start, comes from a tragic end. My family will be happy and living comfortably, that's all I care about".

He brushed his fingers against her jaw, "okay, Murphy".

Smiling a little, Murphy ran her fingers through his hair. "Besides, we may be off the line, but we still have work to do. Right?"

Winters sighed softly, "patrols, mostly".

"Well, I happen to know a quiet squad". Murphy said, "and another thing, you're promoting Gordy. I'm deeply sad to lose him".

He smiled a little, "we needed another strong NCO and Carson was doing well as your right-hand man, thought he could handle a squad of his own".

"Don't take Jackson and Hughes from me". Murphy said with a light smile, "I worked my arse off with them".

"Oh, we know". Winters mused, "I heard them complain a lot when your back was turned".

She chuckled quietly, "good. I left an impression".

"They don't complain so much now".

Murphy shook her head, "no, they know it's useless".

"Lewis".

Murphy and Winters both turned to face Nixon.

He shrugged, "good baby name".

Winters smiled, "thank you, Captain Nixon".

He nodded, "you're welcome".

She chuckled, "your name is lovely, sir". She agreed, "but we're in the middle of a war".

Nixon sighed, "damn – well, here's to the little Lewis in the future".

He raised his flask, before taking a drink.

"I have a question". Murphy said, "what happened to our Lieutenant?"

Winters cleared his throat, "I got him the hell out of the Company".

"Good". She mumbled, "he buried his head in the sand. I never thought I'd seen an expression be played out right before my eyes".

Nixon and Welsh grinned.

"He looked like a lost man in the desert, hiding from the sun".

"Oh, man". Nixon chuckled, "he did".

Murphy sighed softly, "it's a shame, really. Officers do well in training, lose their minds out here in combat. You wonder how they got through training in the first place, you know?"

"You just never expect a lot out here". Welsh said, "but I see your point. We do get trained to expect all the flak".

"And being surrounded". Winters pointed out, "paratroopers are always surrounded".

"What came at you in Veghel, Murph?" Nixon asked, "how'd you get out?"

"The dammed British donkeys". She smirked, "they came with their planes, we stayed around and helped push the Germans back but, we just wanted to get the hell out of there".

"I saw this Dutch woman serve the British Lieutenant a meal. He asked me if his tank was still outside and I exploded". Winters shook his head, "we set up roadblocks, British tank was around but no one was inside".

Murphy grimaced, "wouldn't 'wanna be in his shoes".

Welsh cleared his throat, "yeah – uh – no, you wouldn't".

Winters turned to look at him, "no, you really should be where you're supposed to be, huh, Harry?"

Murphy pulled an amused face, looking over at Nixon who shrugged.

"I said I was sorry, huh?"

Winters shook his head, "in a tavern, Harry?"

Murphy rubbed her lips together, shrinking into the seat.

Nixon cleared his throat loudly, "moving along now?"

"Right – yeah". Winters replied evenly.

"I would have been more pissed if Lieutenant Welsh killed Hitler and the war was over". Murphy stated slowly, a tiny smile on her lips.

And the tension broke, with laughter.

Winters walked Murphy out ten or so minutes later.

Their lips met in a soft and tender kiss.

Sighing softly, Winters tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Get some rest, sweetheart".

"You too, love". Murphy told him softly.

He then chuckled quietly, "Lewis?"

She shrugged with a lazy smiled, "it's not the worst name in the world".

"I suppose not". Winters said through a sigh, "though, it's best we don't widen his ego".

Smiling, she reached up and pushed back his hair. "I love you, even though we all stink".

He snorted in amusement, "yeah…love you too, Murphy".

With one more kiss, Murphy put on her helmet and walked down the path and towards the tree line, where Easy were dug-in.

And while on her walk, it stopped raining.

Murphy looked up and saw one tiny star, shining towards her.

Smiling, she stopped walking, just to stare up at it.

Well, if that wasn't a sign that things would get better, then Murphy didn't know what was.

Though, they had no idea what was yet to come for them.

For that moment, for that tiny break in the war, one star was out.

And maybe, it would continue to shine down on them for the majority of the war.


	25. Chapter 25

On the 2nd of October, the 506 headed up to Nijmegan, where the 82nd Airborne had captured the bridge, which would allow the British tanks to cross over towards Arnhem. The "Island" was a stretch of land sandwiched between the Waal River and the lower Rhine River. The land between the dikes of the two rivers was flat farmland, dotted with small villages and towns. The dikes along the rivers were twenty feet high and the fields were crisscrossed with drainage ditches, covered with heavy vegetation. There were roads on top of the dikes, and narrow roadways towards farmlands.

For this operation, the 101st Airborne were attached to the British XII Corps. Intelligence reported that the German 363d Volksgrenadier Division was in and around the area. And their orders, the 101st Airborne, was to clear the Island.

They arrived at night, to relieve the British 43rd Division. The 506th were taking over a stretch of front line that had been held by a full division. It was over six-miles in length. 2nd Battalion were on the east end of the line, with Easy on the far right. Which left them with 3km to cover with only 130 officers and enlisted men.

The British met them in Zetten and they escorted them up to their new positions.

Murphy found them to be quite a nice bunch, despite being tried and low on morale.

Two weeks they had held the line for, and they looked hammered.

After a three-hour march, they reached their destination.

It was a clump of houses, nestled beside a huge dike, with almost a mile of flat and soggy grass land between it and the dike. The area was littered with dead animals, burnt houses and empty machine-gun belts and ammo boxes.

Home sweet home.

This place was a dump.

Winters put 2nd and 3rd Platoon on the line covering the south side of the dike with 1st in reserve. And because the line was stretched so thin, he placed outposts along the dike, where the enemy would most likely attack from. They had radios in each outpost, to keep in contact with CP and other outposts, with regular patrols to keep contact. And he also wanted regular three-man patrols along the river bank to watch for enemy movement. CP was set up at Randwijk.

Murphy and the rest from 2nd and 3rd dug in behind the dikes, and their front line was along the dike, to prevent the Germans from coming over it. And you'd never have guessed it, it was raining. Cold, wet and horrible rain poured down on them. Things were getting flooded and Murphy saw something crawl up her leg. She kicked her leg out of the foxhole, it was a rat! And rats weren't the only things running around, pigs were at it too, eating the dead corpses.

God, this was like a nightmare.

Murphy was slightly scarred by the pigs, they snorted deeply, sounding like the start of something about to erupt and they'd come over to your friend, who was sleeping and give him a nudge to see if he was alive. Murphy saw one of the guys kick a pig in the face that night, and that animal almost chewed his leg off.

Don't piss off a pig, that was her lesson of the night.

Murphy was dug in with Heffron that night. He was her new foxhole buddy.

What a character Heffron was. Always going on about these nuns back home, always getting into all sorts of trouble with his friends in Philly. She figured that's why he and Guarnere got along so well, they were alike in so many ways. It was almost like being around two brothers half the time. Murphy wished Heffron was with them in Toccoa and Normandy. He would have done great out there with them. Murphy, Heffron and Guarnere were all around the same age. Guarnere was the oldest, his birthday was in April, Heffron was in May and Murphy in July.

She also wondered how she and Guarnere became such good friends.

He was so wild and getting into trouble, while Murphy kept her head down.

But Guarnere would bring her along for trouble, even if she didn't want it.

He brought out this wild side in her, that Murphy didn't know she had.

Where as Heffron was just an all-around decent guy. He was kind, funny, sometimes hot tempered but an emotional guy – like Buck and Grant. Murphy had really bonded with Heffron that night, while they were in their foxhole.

"Irish".

"Never". Murphy grinned, "you're from an Irish background?"

"Edward James Heffron". He said, "Catholic. Five brothers had sisters".

"Yeah…us Irish, we're known for having a big family". Murphy said, "I think it's to do with our religion, they don't believe in condoms".

Heffron laughed at that.

Toye and Guarnere shut them right up.

Still grinning, Murphy looked at him. "So, what's your parents like?"

"My dad, Joseph. He's a prison guard. Folks would ask him to bring all sorts to his work for their friends and the likes stuck in the cells. Man loves is racing, betting on those horses all the time. And my mom, Anne, God you'd love her, Murph".

"Yeah?" She asked, "what's she like?"

"Fiery redhead. Big blues eyes that could look right through you. You don't cross my 'ma. She'd see you was lying, all the time. She's the greatest gift, Murph. Real kind, loving…".

Murphy smiled, "alright, what are your siblings called?"

"Well, it goes – Joseph, James, me, Jack and Anna. All went to Sacred Heart Catholic School, from 1st to 8th grades".

"Right – you need to tell me about your nickname now".

Heffron smiled, "right…well, when my brother was younger, he tried to say baby but ended up calling me babe, instead".

"That's it?" Murphy huffed softly, "Babe – I thought there was a deeper meaning".

"Hey! That is a deeper meaning, you ass".

She grinned, "sorry, pal".

Heffron chuckled quietly, shrugging. "It's fine, Murph".

"So, your brothers enlisted too?"

He nodded, "all four of us, mom was in pieces. Dad was in the Great War, you know? Enlisted at seventeen, wanted us to do our part. But we had already planned to do it anyways. Jimmy and Jake signed up for the Navy and Joe was drafted into the army". He then said, "arrived at Fort Eustis in August, 42. Didn't get to jump school until February, 44".

Murphy sighed, "I tell you what, Babe. We could have used a guy like you in Normandy".

"Yeah?"

She nodded, "yeah…figured you would have survived. You've survived so far, right?"

Heffron chuckled again, "you trying to praise me, Murph?"

Murphy shrugged, "no idea – don't tell big brother Bill".

He finished chuckling with a sigh, "man…Winters sure is lucky to have you".

Her face dropped, she looked at him.

Heffron shrugged, "someone found out, they told people".

"Bill didn't tell-"

"Bill knew?!"

Guarnere and Toye both set them a hard glare.

"If you two don't shut the fuck up – I'm coming over".

"Sorry, Bill". Murphy whispered over her shoulder, "we'll be quiet".

Heffron tugged on her jacket, "why does he get to know?" He asked, quieter this time.

"Because he's a nosey bastard". She said, when she turned to face him again.

"I heard that". Guarnere said.

Murphy made a gesture with her hands, "see what I mean? Nothing gets past that creep".

Toye laughed, "she has a point, Bill".

"Shut up, Joe".

The four of them eventually had a short round of chuckles.

And Murphy thought, it would be okay because they had each other.

"Who found out?"

Heffron shook his head, "I ain't a rat".

Smiling, she leaned back. "Good. I don't care, as long as Sink or that doesn't find out".

"We're surrounded by rats". He pointed out.

"We are". Murphy shuddered, "one of them crawled up my bloody leg".

And, out of the blue, they heard this big whoosh!

Everyone looked up towards the sky, the guys from Veghel all feared the worst.

But it was there own B-24s flying over them towards Germany.

They were dropping silver foil from their planes all around them, to louse up the Germans.

The sky was full of the American planes.

Everyone was soon yelling, "go and get 'em!"

But as soon as the planes passed, things got quiet.

"Alright, everyone shut up now". Guarnere told them.

One night, Guarnere put Heffron and Murphy on outpost duty together.

It was on their second night and they were both exhausted.

Heffron was dozing lightly beside her, to next to his machine-gun and Murphy wasn't too far behind. Though every time her head fell back or forward, she'd give herself a little slap and peel her eyelids open. If her buddy was asleep, she had to remain awake.

So, in her weary state, Murphy heard a strange trickling noise coming from Heffron.

Pulling a confused face, she sat up and nudged him.

"Babe – something weird sounds…weird".

"What?" Heffron whispered, rubbing his eyes. "What are you – Hey! You son of a bitch, Morganti! Quick pissing on my fucking machine-gun!"

Murphy jumped, when he suddenly started to yell.

And Morganti got the shock of his life.

It was dark, no one knew where they were pissing.

"Babe – keep it down!" She hissed.

But Heffron was in a fit of rage. He could have woken up the whole German army.

Guarnere eventually ran over to them, livid and ready to raise hell. "So, he peed on your machine-gun, what's the difference? Shut the hell up. You're 'gonna get us all killed".

Murphy started to laugh.

Heffron turned to face her, "it's not fucking funny!"

"It is!"

Guarnere grinned, "it is".

Heffron's face scrunched up more in angry, "you can both go to hell!"

"Hey!" The pair of them exclaimed.

"I'll give you hell, Babe". Guarnere threatened, "keep your fucking voice down and quit falling asleep. I'll get you some relief soon".

Murphy gave him a toothy grin, "at least Morganti got his relief".

Even Heffron laughed at that.

…

One night, Guarnere woke Murphy up.

"I need you down by 1st". He told her, "don't ask me why, I just 'wanna be nosey".

Murphy sighed and sat up, "then why don't you go?"

Guarnere shrugged, "hell Murph, then I'd never fucking sleep".

Well, looks like Murphy wasn't sleeping that night either.

It was October the 5th, just past three in the morning, when Murphy entered 1st Platoon barn.

The atmosphere was relaxed, quiet, while most of the men slept up in attic of the barn.

They were cosied in, Murphy wished she could have joined them.

She was still rubbing her eyes when entering the barn.

"Aw, no – who woke you up, Murph?" Luz teased harmlessly.

"Starts with B, rhymes with annoying wee arse from Philly".

He grinned, "fancy giving us a hand?"

Murphy looked towards the table, her face split into a smile – Winters was with him.

Nodding, she took a seat on the table. "What have we got?"

"Any good with radios?" Winters asked with a smile, "we seem to be breaking a lot".

Murphy frowned, when a radio was placed into her hands. "I don't think I've ever used one out in combat".

"Well, this should ease you into the process".

She snorted, "thank you, sir".

"What was Babe hollering about a few nights ago, Murph?" Luz asked, with a smirk.

Murphy chuckled lightly.

Winters smiled, having missed the sound of her laugh.

"Aw – some guy peed on his machine-gun. Was so funny, Bill gave him hell".

Something soon pressed up against her boot and for a moment, Murphy thought it was a hungry pig or rat. Letting out a tiny yelp, she drew up her feet towards her chest and looked down.

A dog? What the hell?

Winters and Luz were chuckling.

"How is – I thought it was a pig!" Murphy shook her head, putting her legs back down.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Luz said, "Tab found him".

Smiling, Murphy put down the radio and hopped off the table. Crouching in front of the dog, Murphy rubbed his head and he licked her face. That just melted her to the ground, he was such a good dog. Murphy smiled and kissed the top of his head, not even caring about the possibilities of germs crawling around his fur – he was too cute.

"You've stolen my heart, young sir".

Winters's eyebrows twitched.

Murphy smiled at the dog, "hm? Aren't you just the loveliest?"

Things were relatively quiet, no word from the radio and a few patrols returned unscratched.

One of them being Hashey and Garcia.

Murphy gave them both a smile, "how're you lads?"

"Fine, Sarge".

God, they sounded tired.

Murphy looked back down at the radio, she obviously couldn't fix this. But she wanted to hang around with Winters for a little while longer. Guarnere had told her to get lost and be nosey, well, she was doing just that, in her own time.

However, at twenty past four in the morning, Liebgott, Strohl, Lesniewski and Youman barged into the barn with a severely wounded Alley. Everyone was rushing around, and the guys from the patrol were talking all at once on what happened. They had encountered a large body of Germans at the crossroads three-quarters of a mile east of Easy Company's command post. The Germans had achieved a major breakthrough on their lines.

Winters immediately took action and grabbed himself a squad from 1st Platoon and Sargent Leo Boyle from the CP, who would carry the SCR 300 radio. And you'd better believe Murphy was going along, she was being nosey for Guarnere and she wasn't leaving her friends. So, putting her helmet on and taking up her rifle, Murphy followed the trail of guys and ended up in the back of the line. There were sixteen of them in total, with Winters leading.

And as quick as possible, they moved quickly along the south side of the dike.

When they neared the machine-gun fire, Winters and the rest got down and sat tight.

Murphy was beside Webster, who looked a little wearied from being woken up.

She gave his shoulder a nudge, he turned to face her.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" He whispered.

Murphy shrugged, "tagged along, didn't I?"

Up front, Winters was confused by the firing. There was nothing down that road for nearly three and a half miles, and that would be Battalion HQ at Hemmen. He figured then he'd better take a look and put Boyle in charge for those few minutes, while he made his way up the dike. On the other north side, he could spot a 1-metre deep ditch running parallel to the dike. Winters knew it would provide some cover for the approach on the road.

Murphy was anxious throughout, while Winters crawled up that dike on his own.

But when he returned, he told two guys to stay put, while the rest followed him up the dike. They moved down the dike and onto the ditch on the north side. Then, they moved forwards carefully, down the ditch and towards the road. From there, they ran for two-hundred yards and once again, Winters halted the patrol and went off alone.

As he got closer to the crossroads, he could hear voices and he saw seven Germans, standing on top of the ditch by the machine-gun. Winters crawled, until he was twenty-five yards behind them. They were SS officers. When he returned back to his patrol, he told them of the situation up top.

"We crawl up there with no noise, keep low, and let's hurry".

They reached a position forty-yards from the machine-gun as dawn approached.

Winters then told Dukeman and Christenson to set up their machine-gun.

He then went around each guy and gave them a target.

Murphy's was third on the right.

Winters had no idea she was with them yet, which was probably for the best.

Then, Winters took a step back and raising his voice a little, he gave them command.

"Ready, aim, fire!"

It was mad, like a duck shoot.

One by one, the Germans went down.

They got seven in one blow.

"Fall-back!"

Winters ordered them all.

After they had eliminated the German gun crew, they started receiving light rifle fire from the east side of the roadway that ran from the dike to the river. They ran two-hundred yards towards another drainage ditch, that ran parallel to the roadway where the firing was coming from. Now, they only had one problem. They only had a rifle squad with them at the moment and were expecting heavier stuff. For now, the Germans were only firing back with rifles, but Winters knew they'd need reinforcements. So, he called up Welsh to send the balance of 1st Platoon and also Lieutenant Reis with his section of light machine-gunners.

While he was doing that, the rest were busy firing back at the Germans.

The only way to spot a target was by the reflection from the moon, while shone on their helmets.

 **Bap-bap-bap!**

They soon received some rifle grenade fire, from the section of the road to the river. And without Winters giving them any direction, they had already taken care of the German position.

Murphy didn't know how much she had shot down but there was at least a combat patrol sized flock of Germans out there, firing at them. And during this exchange, Dukeman went down. The guys all knew this, and their fire grew fiercer.

William Dukeman was beloved by everyone. And it didn't matter which Platoon you were in, Easy were a family and if they lost a Toccoa guy, you bet that hurt like hell. But out here, in combat, you didn't have time to sit and cry – you just had to keep on going. You had to take that hurt and turn it into aggression out on the line, or you'd die. It's just the way it was. Some guys might have gotten back into their foxholes and cried alone, Murphy bet lots of guys did that and she couldn't blame them. She had even shed a few tears out in combat.

Murphy gave Webster's arm a clap.

He nodded in return and they moved further down the ditch, for better aim.

She didn't know why she was sticking with Webster during that moment. Murphy figured he was just a good solider and had a good aim – so did Cobb, so she brought him along too. Call Cobb what you wanted but he was a damn good shot and a great soldier. Murphy felt confident with the pair of them beside her for that moment.

Man, this was turning into some "nosey" session.

By the time the rest of 1st arrived, it was broad daylight.

Winters went out fifty-yards between the two lines to assess the situations. He came to three apparent things; the Germans were behind a good solid roadway embankment. While they were in a shallow ditch, with no safe route for withdrawal. Second, the Germans were in a good position to outflank them to their right and catch them in the open flat field with no cover. And last, if the Germans had a force of any size, they could advance right down the roadway south and there would be nothing to stop them until they hit Battalion company post. So, Winters decided to attack. They weren't going to surrender. So, Winters asked God to give them strength, before he returned back to their line.

Murphy was clipping in another magazine, when Floyd told them all to fix bayonets.

Right, they were really doing this.

They were assembled into three assault columns that would be supported by light machine-gun covering fire between the groups. 1st squad was commanded by Peacock, 2nd by Winters and 3rd by Floyd. Murphy was with Floyd.

"We're heading up the right". Floyd told them, "when everyone is in position, Winters will drop a smoke grenade and we'll go on the red smoke".

They were all pumped with adrenaline, waiting to run across that two hundred yards of field and towards the road. There was another dike they'd need to run up, in order to reach the road, not as large as the others they had encountered. But a dike, nonetheless. No one knew about the barbed wire hidden in the grass. But it didn't matter at the moment, they were anxiously waiting for that smoke grenade to go off.

Winters looked around at his men, before he got up, unclipped the smoke grenade and sprinted, you'd never seen anyone run so fast in your whole life. How the hell were they going to catch up with this man?

The grenade made a hissing sound, while it lay on his side.

No smoke.

Murphy frowned, where the hell was the smoke?

The hell if she was going to sit around and wait for the dam smoke.

Floyd had tried to do the same, but someone pulled him back.

No one noticed Murphy leave the ditch, until she got out and started running.

This might have been her fastest run yet, she could see Winters in the distance, tripping every now and then, though continued to run. And that's when she started tripping up, there was the barbed wire. Murphy gritted her teeth and tried to tell her legs to stop being so silly. Because Winters was now up that dike and shots were being tossed around. He was shooting his rifle from his hip, before kneeling down. And he was alone out there, for around thirty seconds before she was at his side. Though, Murphy took the safe approach and laid down on her stomach. There were a lot of Germans, perhaps a few platoons. Murphy didn't know but she fired at them.

And after ten seconds of being along, the rest soon joined them.

Everyone got into position and started hammering into them.

It was crazy.

Murphy hadn't seen anything like it before. These Germans, they were slow with all their winter gear on, they made a really easy target. And while those Germans were retreating towards the river, another Company arrived from about one hundred yards away from the east.

"Where the hell did they come from?!"

"It's a whole other Company?!"

Crazy.

Murphy didn't know how they had survived this.

And she'd have bet on anything, that Guarnere wished he was with them.

There was nothing Guarnere loved to do more, than to be Wild Bill.

Winters column and now reached the road, with Cobb firing into them from a machine-gun.

Floyd's squad still aimed towards the right side.

Each squad was as effective as the next.

And while they got the Germans who were heading back to the river, Winters called in for an artillery strike. They remained firing throughout, while Winters called for Fox Company Platoon to push the Germans back across the river. As of right now, they had four wounded and one dead. And who just happened to show up?

"Hey, Murph!"

Guarnere.

Winters handed out more ammo to the guys from Fox and they proceeded towards the river.

They established a base of fire and repeat the manoeuvre towards the river.

At the river end of this road was a ferry that connected the village of Renkun on the north side of the Rhine with a factory on the Rhine Rivers south bank. The Germans has used this ferry to get the two companies across to the "Island" from Arnhem.

They were hit by light artillery but nothing too severe, which hit their left flank. But when they reached the factory buildings, they were hit by an attack on the right flank.

Winters decided to withdrawal.

They leapfrogged back, which went well. But as they were pulling the last groups over the dike, the Germans hit them hard with mortars and artillery fire, right on that crossroads. They had them pinned down and zeroed in, just perfectly.

Guarnere, Murphy and Boyle all got down.

They bombed the hell out of them.

Limbs were flying everywhere; the ground was exploding, and everyone was screaming for a medic. It was chaos. Murphy thought she might have died then and there. And her teeth were ripping at her lips, to prevent herself from screaming. It reminded her too much of Veghel.

"To the dike!" Guarnere yelled, "come on!"

It was hard to run on ground that wouldn't stop shaking.

Though, they did manage to get only so far up the dike.

But a terrific scream stopped Murphy in her tracks.

She sharply turned around, Boyle had been hit.

"Bill!" She screamed, grabbing Guarnere's trousers, almost pulling them down.

Boyle was flat on his face, shrapnel hit him in the back of his leg, ripped open his thigh, he was bleeding a lot, there was almost nothing left of his thigh. Murphy and Guarnere somehow managed to drag Boyle up the dike and onto the road.

They ripped open his trouser leg and started to sprinkle sulphur power onto the wound. Boyle was out cold, probably from the severe pain he was under. Murphy had his head on his lap, running her fingers through his hair. While she anxiously watched Guarnere.

"Bill! Will he be okay?!"

Guarnere nodded, while he pressed a bandage on his thigh, "sure will, Murph!"

When things got quiet and you were left alone with your own thoughts, you sat and thought, _how the hell did we survive that?_

Most of the guys from the patrol were on a dike, while the rest of Easy came running down to see them. The medics had evacuated the wounded and were now serving the Company hot coffee. Murphy spotted Winters sitting alone, on top of the dike looking towards the road. And before she went up to see about coffee, Murphy walked over to him.

Sitting down next to him, she took off her helmet and saw that his hand was shaking.

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy took his hand into hers.

Winters blinked, looking at her.

"You came along, didn't you?" He croaked.

She nodded, staring out towards the road.

"You would have done the same, love".

Winters sighed and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, "I love you".

Murphy leaned into his side, "are you okay?" She asked, in a rather small voice.

"Of course, sweetheart". Winters assured her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "You're here, aren't you?"

"I am". She responded, voice sounding more serious, though still soft. "Let me tell you something Dick Winters. My heart is bursting with pride. You are remarkable, strong and the smartest man I've ever known. We could have all died, you realise that? We faced two full companies of Germans, Dick. That's probably around three hundred". Murphy slowly shook her head, "and all our orders and positions came from you – you, the man who loves me and for this man to feel lucky to be with me". She placed a hand on the side of his face, "but love, you have no idea how lucky I feel".

Closing his eyes, he pressed their foreheads together.

"I want to marry you".

Murphy's lips twitched.

"I'm 'gonna marry the hell out of you, Murphy Flynn".

"Twenty-two wounded, huh?"

They both slowly pulled apart.

Winters cleared his throat, "yeah, one killed".

Murphy looked up, Nixon soon knelt on the other side of Winters.

"Who?" Nixon asked.

"Dukeman".

There was a moment of silence.

"Dukeman". Nixon replied quietly, "well, you're looking at two full companies of SS out there. About fifty dead, probably another one hundred wounded. Seven back in the regimental cage plus a whole string of them up there. That's not bad for Dukeman".

Murphy gave Winters hand a squeeze.

"You got a drink?" Winters asked. "Of water?" There was a tiny smile on his face.

Nixon got up and brought out his canteen.

And here's where the man lightened the mood a little.

He uncapped his canteen and took a sniff, "yeah, that's water".

Murphy snorted, shaking her head.

Winters took a drink, probably more thirsty than he thought. "Thanks".

Still hand in hand, they soon got onto their feet.

"Okay?" Nixon asked.

Winters grabbed his helmet and rifle, they both walked back up the road.

Murphy wasn't aware they were hand in hand, she wouldn't have care anyway.

According to Heffron, most of the guys knew anyway, they were just shy to ask.

"Sarge, we – oh, hello, sir".

Hughes was staring wide eyed at them both.

Oh, he obviously didn't know.

That brought a tiny smile to Winters lips, "Private Hughes?"

"Uh – we – uh – want some coffee, Sarge?"

"In a minute, Jason". Murphy told him, "make sure to get yourself some too, eh?"

Hughes nodded quickly, helmet almost tipping forwards. "Yes, Sarge".

Smiling small, she gave him a nod and the couple continued to walk down the road.

She did see passing small smiles every now and then, from the Toccoa guys.

The replacements couldn't believe their eyes.

Winters lightly brushed his lips on the side of her, "get some rest, Murphy".

"Yes, sir".

Letting go of his hand, Murphy soon sat down between Guarnere and Martin.

A cup of coffee was placed into her hands.

"Thanks".

Gaurnere smiled, "I asked you to be nosey, not to run about shooting the SS".

Murphy snorted, "I'm never listening to you again, but I always will".

They didn't know how long they'd be here.

After that patrol, other patrols would never be the same.

With that fear in the back of their heads, what if it's another company we're running into?

It had been a long time since Normandy.

They had come so far, and Murphy was proud of each and everyone of them.


	26. Chapter 26

The next day, October 6th, 2nd Platoon were relieving B Company in the defensive position on the dike. It was stupid really, they had brought the Platoon up by truck in broad daylight. They were all pretty pissed off by that. When they got out of the truck, a guy from HQ company headed over to the wooded area to use the bathroom. Murphy was just getting off the truck herself when suddenly;

 **Boom!**

A shell exploded on that guy who went off to use the bathroom. And a piece of him flew onto the truck. The sound was stomach churning. Murphy cleared her throat and grabbed her bag, while telling her squad very quietly to "dig in".

Before they left for this position, Hoobler and Martin told her that Webster had been shot.

"The leg". Martin told her, "he's at the aid station now, he'll be alright".

Murphy wasn't sad that Webster had been shot, that guy was lucky.

"Could have been worse". She had said, thinking back to Dukeman and Boyle.

This new position was just as miserable as the next.

Pigs, rats – and even more corpses.

Guarnere was taking some of he men to set up a mortar, after he gave orders to the rest of them. They were walking up beside a house to go occupy it, and as B Company were leaving, they told them things had been "pretty quiet. The only action was a round of mortar shells on a nearby house".

Murphy and her squad linked up with Toye and his machine-gun squad with Heffron and his buddy Jim Campbell. Toye was in the lead, Murphy was behind Heffron with Hughes and Jackson behind her, while they walked towards the side of the house.

"Hey, Heffron!" Toye called from the front, "bring your machine-gun up!"

"Heffron, you stay here with the gun and Murph, I'll go with Toye". Jim Campbell told him.

Nodding, he took a step back and got about setting up his gun.

"Hughes, why don't you-"

 **Boom!**

An 88 soon bashed right into the house.

The side of the house came crashing down on top of them. They were soon buried in white chalk and debris. Thankfully, the four of them weren't hurt but the blast had hit their two friends, who had rounded the corner of the house as soon as the 88 fell in on them.

"Stay here!" Murphy told Jackson and Hughes.

She and Heffron got up and ran around the house to check on Toye and Campbell.

There was a large cloud of shell powder, like a giant mushroom cloud. And Toye stepped out from it, limping a bit.

Murphy made to reach out to him but Toye shook his head.

"Don't touch me, I'm hit all over".

Now that the smoke was clearing, they could see how bad he had been hit.

Back of the legs, his neck was chewed up by shrapnel. This was his third time hit in four months of combat. Murphy was all things angry, worried and sad, because he'd be leaving them for the aid station once again.

Heffron looked down at Campbell, reaching out to check on him.

"He's dead, Heffron. I checked".

The shell had hit Campbell in the back, killing him immediately.

It was very quiet.

Heffron covered Campbell with his topcoat and said a little prayer for him.

Murphy looked over at Toye.

"You watch my guys". He told her, "I'll be back soon".

And that was that.

Heffron carried Toye out, through gunfire and mortars, towards the aid area.

Murphy and her squad set about pushing those Germans back from their positions on the dike.

It didn't last long, the Germans retreated shortly after.

Guarnere and his mortars did a bang-up job of effective fire throughout.

"Bill, Joe's back at the station".

"You're fucking kidding me". Guarnere shook his head, "is it bad?"

"I think it looks worse than it is". Murphy whispered, "Babe took him, Campbell's dead".

He sighed, "right, thanks Murph".

Murphy was beyond the point of exhaustion.

She had that patrol last night with Winters, didn't get any sleep. And then they had to move to this position the next day. Murphy expected to get some sleep that night, her head was foggy and cloudy from not sleeping. However, just as she was getting her guys settled into their foxholes that night, Guarnere came over to her.

"You and your squad have an important patrol".

Murphy looked at him.

"Those prisoners you took from the crossroads patrol, couple of them were Polish. Three-miles from our position here, east, there's a white house". Guarnere said to her, "in that house, we've got a couple of Poles who're being held prisoner".

"You want us to get them?"

He nodded, "yeah – think you can handle it?"

 _No._

"Yeah, we can". Murphy said, "now?"

"Yup, right now".

Guarnere always made a prisoner snatch, or a rescue patrol sound a lot more badass than it actually was. He was only doing this for her sake, he could tell how tired she was. Hell, they were all tired. They stunk as well, their last shower was in England, before they left. That was almost a month ago now.

"How occupied is that house?" Murphy asked, while she had her squad got ready.

"Not too bad". Guarnere said, "but we'll be one hundred and fifty yards behind you in a ditch by the road, in case shit turns sour. Good?"

"Yeah, fine".

He then handed her a whistle, "you find yourself with more Krauts than you and your boys can handle, give it a blow and we'll start firing and moving up".

Murphy took the whistle with a puzzled look.

Guarnere snorted, "your boyfriend insisted".

She tutted, "shove off, Bill".

The white house was situated on top of a dike, with several small houses scattered around. The land it sat on stretched only around three-miles. It was a small village, with a tree line behind the house and little roads leading up to farmhouses. They called it the White House because it was the biggest house in the village, and it was white – of course.

In order to safely get to this village, Murphy and her boys had to walk up the dike.

It was a very high dike and almost completely vertical. Getting up there was easy but they'd need to find a safer journey back, especially with the Polish, who were both probably injured.

The good news was the weather was terrible. It was raining and very dark, so nothing shinned off their helmets. And Murphy had told her guys to leave canteens, musette bags and the likes behind. They brought along two grenades each, rifles, ammo and their bayonets, that was it. She couldn't risk any noise, they had to be extremely quiet.

Murphy's stomach was churning. She didn't like this at all.

When they approached the house from the back, there was a fence.

It was six feet, not so bad and from the gaps between the wood, she could see it was clear.

But Jackson spotted a large gap, where they could crawl through instead.

That was a better option.

Quietly, the three of them moved up towards the house and took cover under the window.

Murphy slowly raised her head, just so her eyes could look through.

She saw the two Polish prisoners, they were sitting in the corner of the room.

There hands were tied behind their backs and two black sacks were over their heads.

In that room with them were five Germans.

Two things came to her mind. One of them; toss two grenades in and risk harming the Polish guys or finding another way inside and ambushing them. But, as luck would have it, two Germans took the prisoners and moved them into another room. She was going with her first option.

"Blast, two grenades, we go in". Murphy told her guys quietly.

Nodding, Hughes and Jackson brought out a grenade each, while Murphy headed towards the door. Once she was standing, she gave the nod. They both unclipped the grenades and tossed them into the window. They went crashing through the glass, exploding four seconds later. After the blast, Murphy charged into the house, Jackson and Hughes not far behind.

They shot the three Germans, the other two came running back into the room.

After shooting the remaining two, the three of them ran inside the other room and grabbed the Polish guys. Murphy used her bayonet to cut off the ropes and soon took off their sacks. Jackson armed them with German rifles. One of them was wounded, his leg was busted up pretty badly. Though he could still walk, they'd need to find another way out.

The biggest mistake they made, Murphy made, was not checking to see if the Germans were actually dead. Because one of them was still alive and he soon called for back-up. But they didn't know that and continued to run down the street.

 **Boom!**

The earth was shaking, an 88 soon came crashing down.

More and more after.

Houses were falling apart, Germans were screaming, and machine-gun fire came at them from all sides. One of the explosions hit the centre, causing Murphy and one Polish guy to lose sight of the rest. Separated now, Murphy grabbed the Polish man's arm and they ran for cover.

One hundred and fifty yards down the road, 2nd Platoon were watching anxiously.

They hoped not to hear that whistle.

But when that first 88 dropped, everyone's stomachs turned.

Guarnere gave the order and they started to hit the town with mortars. He then got the machine-gunners into position on the edge of the road, while they fired out towards the village.

He was cursing and blaring, trying to get all the rifle squads ready to move down the road.

Meanwhile, Murphy and the Polish guy were in a ditch, with a wooden door covering them.

She could hear Germans rush back and forth, running from one end to another.

And she thought back to Veghel and how they managed to survive that.

But Murphy was also wondering about her boys. She didn't care much about anything else, she just wanted Hughes and Jackson to be okay.

The Polish guy next to her was shaking, he couldn't speak English, it was his buddy who could speak good English and German.

Lying in a ditch, with a frightened Polish guy, wasn't the best of times.

The Germans continued to shell the village, while infantry headed down the dike, attacking the rest of 2nd Platoon. It hadn't gone to plan, Murphy felt terrible. But how was she to know one of the Germans was smart enough to play dead?

As of right now, they were surrounded.

But one of the advantages was their friends, giving them good covering fire.

At the next break, Murphy pushed that door away and she grabbed the Polish man.

They took cover behind houses, carts and the likes.

The edge of the dike was close by, but Murphy needed to find her boys first.

And they suddenly just popped up from under debris behind a house, unharmed.

The reunion was short, though they were happy to see each other once again.

From there, the five of them raced down a road and towards the edge of the dike.

At the bottom, in a ditch, were six Germans.

Murphy got everyone down on their stomachs and they started shooting at them.

She could see 2nd Platoon on the road, the rifle squads were advancing forward.

88's was still shelling the hell out of the village, probably thinking they were still inside.

However, the tigers soon changed it's target and started to blast the road.

2nd Platoon had to pull-back, just fifty-yards or so.

Guarnere was barking out orders, getting the mortars to bring up the bazooka so they could take care of the tank. Tigers were bad at that, lurking behind the trees and then appearing out of nowhere. They were tough, with powerful cannons. You'd never hear a blast like it, it shattered the earth and destroyed everything in its way.

Once the dike was cleared, they all started running down.

This dike was steep, wasn't you started running, there was no chance of stopping.

Murphy almost fell and broke her legs.

At the bottom, they used the ditch to run back towards the road.

Bullets were flying over their heads, 88's were shelling in front of them.

It was a nightmare.

When they eventually reached the road, Malarkey and Muck got them up.

And Murphy turned to the Polish guys.

"You 'wanna help push them back?!"

So, with her squad and the two men, they joined Popeye's rifle squad and advanced forward with them. After taking out that Tiger, it got a lot easier from there. No back-up was needed, 2nd Platoon handled themselves just fine. Besides, Guarnere wouldn't have called for help unless they absolutely needed it.

They walked back the three-miles feeling drained.

Murphy brought Hughes and Jackson along with her, while they made their way over to CP, to hand the Polish guys over. Winters had been informed of the commotion, Murphy was glad to see him again.

"One of the Germans was playing dead, I think". She told him quietly, "must have called in for back-up but Guarnere and our Platoon gave us good covering fire, we got out of there pretty fast, sir".

"Good job". Winters said to her softly, "I'm proud of you three".

She turned around and gave Hughes and Jackson a tiny smile.

"Go back and get some rest, I'll handle it from here".

"Goodnight, Sarge – Captain Winters".

When they left CP, Murphy near enough collapsed.

She sat down, Winters followed after her.

"Sweetheart?" He whispered, concerned.

Taking in a deep and shaky breath, she shook her head. "Just tired, love".

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "close call?"

Murphy leaned into his side, "was fine…I just messed it up, that's all".

Winters shook his head, "you completed the objective. No one got hurt. You and your squad succeeded, Murphy". He then cleared his throat, "something I should tell you".

"What's that, love?"

"I've been promoted".

Murphy's eyebrows twitched.

"2nd Battalion XO. Looks like you'll be getting a new Company Commander".

And she only frowned because Winters sounded a little cut up about that.

Pulling back, she placed her hand on the side of his face, looking at him.

"Well, I think I can safely say we'll all miss Captain Winters".

His lips twitched.

"But now, you have to look after everyone. You can handle it, we all know you can. And whoever replaces you, will have you to deal with if they mess it all up". She said, "so, I'm not really worried about that".

Winters pressed his lips against hers.

"Thank you, sweetheart".

Murphy smiled, "I'm so proud of you, love".

"I'm leaving on the 9th of this month". He told her, "I'm not sure who's replacing me yet".

"Don't worry about that". She told him softly, "we still have the best NCO's in the army".

Winters smiled at that, "yeah, you do".

…

Life on the line was becoming more miserable. Though, no one had the balls to complain.

If you got caught complaining, Guarnere would soon shut you the hell up.

k-rations were running scarce, so they all ate apples. Lots of orchards around, you'd hit the trees with your gun, and a few would drop down. And speaking of drop, everyone was losing weight fast because they were mostly living off apples. Murphy's rips were poking out from under her skin, hipbones were sharp like knifes, she looked terribly ill. She didn't know why she was dropping the weight so fast, probably had something to do with running around all day and night. They moved mostly at night, patrols and the likes. Orders came in, they got the job done but 1st Platoon were always the ones who took the most flak.

Guarnere was always around, grabbing a squad and heading over to 1st to help out.

For the first week of Winters leaving the Company, the NCO's held Easy together.

The first replacement, you never saw the guy. He was always in his bed, didn't give them much orders, couldn't lead them in combat. He was kicked out quickly and Moose Heyliger took over. Moose was a good guy, always out there in the field with them and made good decisions. He fit in well with Easy.

Joe Toye had re-joined within that week.

He was fine, healthy as a horse, as he put it.

And like always, Toye was there to lighten the mood by singing, "I'll be seeing you".

You'd be sitting in your foxhole, which was more like a swamp because it never stopped raining. It would be quiet, you were miserable and all of a sudden, you'd here Toye start singing that song. Toye would sing one line and soon, everyone joined in. Guarnere would be sitting in silent rage, wishing everyone would shut up because the Germans might start shooting but even then, he'd hum or join in.

Singing, who knew that was one of their favourite pass-times.

But the best thing, was when Heffron and Murphy sang, "Bridget O'Flynn".

It was an Irish folk song.

The guys loved it. Murphy couldn't sing, she was tone deaf but Heffron was pretty good.

They decided not to tell him he could sing pretty good, Heffron would get too full of himself.

Murphy thought that was pretty funny.

When they weren't in a static position, or singing, they were running back and forth.

Guarnere liked to keep everyone moving.

Murphy and her squad did a few more night patrols here and there, mostly prisoner snatches.

And if it wasn't a prison snatch, they were digging themselves in across the line, observing the Germans, who were always seventy-five yards in front of them. Those moments were always tense, she'd never forget them. Once you were dug-in and covered, you stayed there. One time, they stayed there for over almost two days, just watching them. Jackson and Hughes were as still as rocks, so was Murphy. It was very isolating, they wished Toye was with them, singing quietly under his breath. But those were the moments when that squad truly bonded.

Murphy loved her boys. She trusted them with everything she had.

Though she had given them hell back in England, the three of them were tight.

During those observation moments, they had a notepad and pencil with them.

To pass the time, they'd write out the German movements.

"Left house, 2215 hours".

"Entered truck, 2230".

"Squad left, 2240 hours".

It felt useless at the time, but it must have helped sometimes.

At the end of their observations, Guarnere would tap her on the shoulder.

"Let's go".

He was crawling on his belly.

They all got out and moved down with him.

Things went on as normal. Life in combat was never easy. But for the most part, they remained static with the night patrols. In the middle of October, they moved to an area by Arnhem. Battalion was stationed in Schoonderlogt, four or five miles from the front line. And they told them they'd be out of the elements. Whatever the hell that meant. Murphy and her squad, along with Heffron, were position in a barn with no roof, nothing they weren't used to. They had stayed in wet and muddy foxholes before this – this barn, was a castle. And like always, they were relieving B Company.

When they walked into the barn, there was a big dead German lying there, next to a dead cow.

"You should have been here last night, we had a party". A guy from B Company said.

"Get lost". Murphy mumbled, "Jason, Jack – let's get settled in".

Guarnere always put Toye and Murphy's squads together.

Didn't matter where they were, he always wanted them close by for some reason.

"Hey!" Murphy pulled one of the guys from B Company back, "clean up, eh?"

"Piss off-"

"hey!" Toye snapped, "do as she tells you – get those bodies 'outta here!"

Everyone was getting sick and tired of the Island.

War wasn't all glory, it was more guts than anything else.

Dead corpses, sleeping in shit every night.

Limbs flying over your head from 88's.

Sometimes, it felt like nothing good would ever come of it.

But there were always moments, that made you smile.

Toye singing, Heffron telling funny stories about his childhood, Murphy telling awful jokes.

And then Guarnere, who would pop-up and make you feel better.

As soon as you saw that man's face, you knew things were going to be okay.

You just had to take the little things and turn it into something a lot bigger to make you smile again. Like this barn, it didn't have a roof, but they had hay to keep them warm. It had walls, four walls, and could offer them shelter from the wind blowing from the sides.

But like always, Murphy found a form of comfort from being cold and hungry.

There barn was in a spot where if the Germans attacked from their position on the dike, they could put up enough resistance for the rest of the Platoon to get a counterattack ready. The German lines weren't far away from them. This was probably the closest they had been since the counter attack in Carentan.

"Well, there's a fresh son of a bitch".

"What?"

It was the next morning, Heffron was on the top floor of the barn, looking out.

"Some fucking Kraut, he just waved at me".

Murphy huffed out a laugh, "seriously?"

Heffron nodded, "what an ass".

She was in the process of cleaning out her rifle, Hughes and Jackson were doing the same.

"Looking good". She told them.

"Good enough for your old CO?" Jackson grinned.

Murphy laughed, "Sobel? No, nothing was ever good enough for him, pal".

Toye groaned, "Murph, why'd you have to bring up that ass? I was having a good thing going".

She pulled a face, "I hope you're not – doing what I think you're doing, Joe Toye".

He sighed, "not anymore".

The others laughed.

"Jesus Christ". Heffron exclaimed, "couldn't have picked a better moment, Joe?"

"Hey, guys". Guarnere soon entered the barn, "let's see…Murph – on your feet, let's go".

Putting on her helmet, she slung her rifle over her shoulder. "Where we going, Bill?"

"Need to reach Battalion". He said, "gotta move fast".

"Sure".

They made there way up the road, well aware they were about to walk into the open.

Guarnere spotted something from outside a house, a motorbike.

Murphy watched, while he sat down on the bike, starting it up with two wires.

Frowning, she walked over to him. "We're not-"

"we are, get on".

Sighing, she slid behind Guarnere and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You better not get me killed, you arse".

Grinning, he kick started the bike and the engine roared to life.

"Hold on!"

Murphy locked her hands together, "okay!"

And they were off!

It was actually pretty fun, after a few moments of feeling utterly terrified.

Guarnere drove them down the flat field, while a breeze nipped at their cheeks.

Murphy's hair fell out from her bun, they were going so fast.

But it was fine because this was Guarnere and she felt safe with him.

They weren't even thinking how stupid this idea was. Not at the time.

And it wasn't until one shot ran out.

The bike jerked to the side, Guarnere had lost control.

Murphy, hands still around his waist, felt her heart leap into her throat.

"Bill!" She screamed.

Another shot ran out, which ended up hitting Guarnere on the leg.

The pair of them went flying off that bike.

The bike crashed into a wall, bits of shrapnel flew everywhere.

Murphy's cheek got cut up, as did her knees and arm but other than that, she was fine.

Guarnere wasn't, he was lying on his belly, it a world of pain.

She scooted over to him, "B-Bill?"

"Fucking Christ". He groaned into the ground.

Murphy's shoulder sagged, good, he was alive.

"Goddamn bullet hit my leg – Murph, are you okay?"

She nodded, soon seeing that a piece of shrapnel was in his rear. "Yeah, fine". Murphy soon replied vocally, because Guarnere couldn't see her face. "Bullet, wound? Let me have a look".

"Forget it". Guarnere muttered, "get up to Battalion, get me a medic".

"Nope, you're coming with me".

"You can't carry me, you mick".

Murphy snorted, "no…but I have an idea".

With Guarnere's arms wrapped around her neck, Murphy dragged that idiot up to Battalion.

Welsh was the closest guy there.

"Sir!" She called out.

When he saw her, Welsh quickly jogged over. "What's the – Bill!?"

A medic saw to him and because his wounds were pretty messed-up, Guarnere would need to be evacuated back to England to a hospital. Murphy was gutted. Not as gutted as him, however.

"I'll be back soon". He told her, "Malarkey will be in charge now, he'll look after you all".

Murphy sighed and squeezed his hand, while they wheeled him away towards an ambulance on a stretcher. "Bill – it's 'gonna be fine".

"I know that, you dummy!" He soon smiled a little, "get lost, Murph".

Letting go of his hand, he watched Guarnere be load into the back of the A-truck.

Her shoulders dropped, this was going to suck without him.

Welsh clapped her arm, "come on, I know someone who'd 'wanna see you".

Winters was stationed in a small house, with others from Battalion.

They walked up two flights of stairs and ended up in an attic.

The man was sitting behind a desk, staring intently at a typewriter.

Welsh huffed, "Dick?"

Blinking, he looked away from the typewriter. His eyes caught Murphy. And he got up from that chair so fast, racing towards her. "What happened to your face – your arms?"

"Knees as well". Murphy mumbled, "got holes in 'me trousers".

A few minutes later, Murphy was sitting on an armchair while Winters cleaned up her cuts with warm water and a cloth. Welsh had told him about the joyriding experience before he promptly left the attic, claiming he had to be somewhere. Winters was not impressed, though relieved they were both okay.

"How is everyone?"

"Fine". Murphy responded, "everyone's hanging tough – as you'd say".

Winters snorted, shaking his head.

She smiled a little, "how are you?"

"Bored".

"Really?"

Winters sighed, "I miss being out there sometimes".

Murphy looked around her, "well, we could trade for a day?"

He smiled softly at her, "or, you could move in? I'll hide you in my footlocker".

She chuckled, "I'll never fit in with all Captain Nixon's Vat 69".

He frowned, "how did you know about that?"

Murphy's eyes widened a little, oh, shit.

The train journey, before they reached camp Shanks in New York.

Winters laughed, amused by her expression. "You have to tell me now".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy shrugged.

He rolled up her trousers, carefully placing the cloth onto her grazed knees.

"The train journey to New York. I was sitting behind you".

"You – Murphy!" Winters huffed, "heard all that, did you?"

"I never told anyone". Murphy said, "figured they dragged me into it, I'd rather keep it to myself, you know?"

Smiling, he looked back down at her knees.

She stared at him, adoringly. "I love you…I miss you".

Winters looked back at her, "I miss you too, sweetheart".

Murphy ran her fingers through his hair, "you smell nice. How dare you get to look after yourself".

He grinned and buried his fingers into his hair, "you smell delightful".

"You're so full of it".

Winters eyes had that edge again.

Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck and just like that, he picked her up.

With her legs locked around him, he soon set her on the desk.

Their lips met, everything was passionate and in a great hurry.

They couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Papers flew on the ground, while they pulled each other's clothes off.

And Winters looked at her, like he always did. But his expression fell. She had lost so much weight. Murphy, feeling a little insecure now, quickly pulled their lips together once more. He took her face into his hands, before his fingers wondered down.

Murphy gripped onto the desk, arms out in front of her.

Winters grabbed her hips.

There was a collective moan and gasp.

She bit down on her lip, back arching.

God, this could never get old.

Winters would never look at his desk in the same way again.

When it ended, they had to quickly get changed and clean up.

Murphy was laughing, while she picked up reports.

Winters was hushing her, though grinned.

What a time to be in love.


	27. Chapter 27

They came up with an idea of putting hay into the bins and getting in their feet first.

God, Heffron was a genius.

And as snug as they were inside their little bins, heads poking out, someone barged into the barn.

"The German's are coming over the dike!"

It was two in the morning. Everyone was staring weary-eyed at this guy.

Murphy slid out from the bin and grabbed her rife, "come on, lads!"

Toye, forgetting he was in a bin, shot forward. And he fell forward, like something straight out of a comedy sketch. "Get ready!" He shouted, more so at the ground.

They were rushing around like headless chickens for the most part.

Putting on their boots, they grabbed their guns and rushed out of that door.

"My socks back there!" Heffron yelled, who had put his bare foot into a wet boot.

Holland was underwater, you got your boot stuck in mud half the time.

Going into combat without a sock, was almost like forgetting your helmet.

So, that was the barns new drama.

When they pushed the Germans back across the dike, they all searched for Heffron's sock.

They couldn't find it, Heffron had to use one sock and switch every other day.

Their supply Sargent Smith promised Heffron he'd bring a sock down in the morning.

He never showed up.

The next morning, brought another drama to the barn.

Murphy woke up from the sounds of men yelling.

Hughes and Jackson were sitting up as well, looking puzzled.

"Let's go and see what's going on". She said to them.

Heffron was shielding a man, while one replacement was wanting to kill this guy.

Murphy was confused, until she eventually looked up. The guy Heffron was protecting was six-foot five, very tall compared to them and he was awfully skinny and sickly looking.

"Kill him!" The replacement screamed.

"Hey! Get lost, you son of a bitch!" Heffron yelled back.

Giving Hughes and Jackson a nod, one of them stood with Heffron, while Jackson quickly took the rifle from the replacement and grabbed his wrists into a tight hold.

"Get off me!"

"Shut up". Jackson mumbled, shaking his head. "What's going on, Babe?"

Heffron sighed, lowering his rifle. "He's Polish. The Krauts forced him to fight".

Murphy frowned and looked up at the Polish guy, "yeah…same with the two Poles we rescued a few weeks back". She mumbled, "do you speak English?"

"Ah – not good, not good". He responded, shaking his head.

She rubbed her lips together, "what's your name? I'm Murphy".

"Kacper".

Her lips twitched, "that's a nice name".

Heffron pulled a face, "Murph, what the hell?"

Murphy shrugged, facing him. "It's a nice name, Babe".

Though his eyes were haunted and wide, Kacper smiled small.

She cleared her throat, "Babe? Best get him to Welsh, eh?"

Kacper was safely sent to headquarters.

Apparently, Heffron had heard a noise outside of the barn.

And he found this tall and dark shadow moving towards him. Kacper had his hands up in the air, submitting to surrender. Heffron threw him against the barn and Kacper explained to him in broken English that the Polish boys were made to fight alongside the Germans, either that or they'd be killed. And Kacper had been lucky, he managed to escape.

Kacper, the English for that was, Casper.

Murphy honestly did like that name.

She never asked the names for the two Polish guys they rescued.

Murphy never understood much about Germany's hatred against the Polish.

The guys told her, "Hitler's hates anyone that ain't German".

Webster told her, "he's a racist, fascist pig. He puts people into camps, working to help the German war effort".

"What people?"

"Anyone he thinks will stop Germany from being the best fucking country in the world".

So, there was that.

But that's as far as her knowledge went. Murphy didn't know anything about these camps, she didn't understand why some Polish men were forced to fight and she didn't understand why Hitler was so racist. In fact, Murphy didn't understand a lot of things. Back in Ireland, there was a huge line between Catholics and Protestants but unlike others, she didn't care. Her mother didn't care, clearly, she married a Protestant. Her Granny and the older generations saw it as something to look down upon. Murphy figured hating someone because of their religion, race, colour of their skin, was just a waste of time and energy.

In her books, Hitler was just pure evil.

So, putting all her energy into stopping him, was fine by her.

And it was later on in that day, when Welsh soon walked over to her.

"The guy won't speak to us, say's he wants Murphy". He didn't look too pleased, "Murph, you can't be telling people your name".

She sighed softly, "right – yeah. Sorry, sir".

"Never mind, it's done. Come on, we're riding up".

After a short journey in a jeep, Welsh led her into the regiment building, which was a large farmhouse. Boy, didn't they have it lucky? She felt like a rolled-up piece of shit compared to everyone else, who were dressed in nice uniforms, all clean and showered. A few of them pulled a face; she must have stunk to the high fucking heavens!

Welsh led her down a small corridor and placed his hand on a doorknob.

"Don't tell him anything else, got it?" He said to her firmly.

Murphy nodded, "yes, sir".

Kacper was sitting on a chair, behind a desk.

The room was bare, except for that desk and two chairs, opposite each other.

Sighing, Murphy put down her rifle and helmet, before she sat down opposite him.

"M-U-R-P-H-Y". Kacper said to her, very slowly, with a tiny smile.

She nodded and placed her hands on the table, "that's right, Kacper".

He was melting her heart, with his smile and bright eyes.

Clearing her throat, Murphy reached into her pocket and pulled out a notepad and pencil. She placed them onto the desk, pushing it towards him. "Can you draw?"

Kacper nodded, "I draw Germans".

"Yeah, the German positions, please". Murphy leaned back, while Kacper began to draw. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and an apple. "Hungry? Do you smoke?"

He looked up from the notepad, nodding eagerly.

Murphy took out her a box of matches and lit a cigarette for him, "here you go".

"Dziekuje".

She smiled a little, "does that mean, thank you?"

Nodding, Kacper puffed on the cigarette, using his other hand to continue his drawing.

"How do you say, you're welcome?"

"Nie ma za co".

Murphy crossed her arms, "Nie ma za co?"

Looking up from the notepad, Kacper nodded. "Yes, very good".

Damn, she liked this guy.

Murphy cleared her throat again, "family?"

His expression changed, eyes growing doleful, like the small light had been taken away.

She frowned and tilted his head to the side.

"Gone". Kacper replied, after a few moments of silence.

Murphy's expression changed too, "where?"

"Gone".

Sighing, she ran a hand down her face. "Wife? Children?"

Kacper nodded.

"Uh…". Murphy was playing a game of charades with Kacper by this point. She ended up pointing to the paper and drawing a square out from the air with her fingers. "Photo?"

Kacper shook his head, "Germans took them".

"The SS?"

"No".

She frowned again, "who?"

Kacper's eyes looked haunted once more, "Gestapo".

Murphy leaned towards the desk, "what's that?"

"Bad – evil, people". His voice was very quiet, "took my family".

"You don't know where?" Murphy whispered.

Kacper pushed the notepad and pencil towards her, "I don't know where".

Murphy left that room with more questions than answers.

Ripping the page out of her notepad, she handed it back to Welsh.

"Brilliant". He said, "thank Heffron for not killing him, huh?"

"Yeah – yeah, alright". Murphy whispered.

What a strange day.

Murphy walked back inside the barn, Heffron eagerly walked over to her.

"Welsh sends his thanks". She told him softly, "Kacper had a lot of information".

Heffron's shoulders dropped in relief, "he won't die?"

"What – no, of course not, pal". She said to him, "Kacper didn't have a choice. I'm pretty sure the Germans used his family as blackmail".

"Damn Krauts". He muttered.

Murphy nodded, "yeah…the SS are the worst". She then said, "but he mentioned something else".

"What?"

Her face pulled back into confusion, "Gestapo?"

Heffron shook his head, "never heard of it, Murph".

"Well, apparently they're evil". Murphy said, "I'm guessing worse than the SS".

"Worse?" Jackson asked from the ground, "where can we find these guys?"

"Oh, I'm not sure we will". Murphy mumbled, "if they're evil, they'll be kept hidden, like Hitler".

"Here".

Soon, an apple hit the side of her leg.

"Eat". Toye told her.

Murphy picked the apple up and stared at it, before she rubbed it against her trousers. Germs really didn't matter much out here. And she didn't have much time to think about it, she bit into that apple because she was starving. Her body was a piece of work at the moment, it was going into starvation mode because Murphy, like the rest, were living off apples. Cuts were taking longer to heal, people were getting sick and prone to illness, they walked around like zombies half the time and no one could keep warm.

There wasn't much left to do but ignore it and push through it.

One day, while walking back from a patrol, one of the new guys just collapsed.

He was out cold, Murphy was panicking, thinking something hit him.

But no, he fainted because his body couldn't take the lack of food.

It wasn't always just apples, they still had some rations left but it wasn't enough.

They needed more.

Guys would be crying, moaning because their stomachs hurt so bad from it.

Guarnere would have yelled at them, Malarkey was still firm, but he didn't raise his voice.

"What do we do, Malark?" Murphy asked him one night.

"We can't do anything, Murph". He said, "we just have to keep on going".

Murphy was turning into a softy, especially when the guys got sick.

She'd bring them water, heat up coffee and make sure their blankets were dry.

And when Jackson woke up, with a stuffed-up nose and a temperature, she almost hit the roofless roof in the barn.

"Jack". Murphy pressed her hand against his forehead, "you're resting today, okay? Don't worry, I'll take Liebgott or Popeye with us tonight".

They weren't dropping like flies from illness but a lot of them did get sick.

Their immune systems were terrible.

Murphy was always on edge. She raced up to 1st Platoon, checking in on them.

"Is everyone okay?" She'd ask Martin, who was their Platoon Sargent.

"Murph, quit running back and forth, would you? We're fine".

And if she wanted to find out more intel, she'd ask Lipton.

Good old Lipton. He hadn't changed. He was always the same guy, the man of the Company. Since Winters left for Battalion, he was the guy everyone went to. If you had a problem, go and find Lipton, he'd sort it right out.

"Murph, I'm not sure a common cold is anything to worry about".

"I know". She sighed, "I just worry".

Lipton set her an assuring smile, "outpost tonight?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah, Hughes relieves me in two hours".

So, she soon found herself sitting on outpost duty, looking across the dike.

Those moments were long and lonely.

Murphy had to find ways to keep herself awake and entertained, though still remaining focused. Usually, she had someone beside her, like Heffron, Hughes, Jackson or Toye but that night, she was all alone. Not that she minded, it was actually quite nice being alone for the first time in a while. Murphy couldn't remember the last time she was alone.

Had it been that long?

Leaning on the edge of the outpost, she rested her chin onto her arms.

Rain trickled down her back, her jacket and shirt were too big on her, it left a large gap between her skin. The rain caused her to shiver, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. No one seemed to be overly concerned about her weight, they all had better things to be worried about.

Between her and the dike was a stretch of field.

With the rain, Murphy almost didn't notice a series of figures running across the field.

And when she did, Murphy took up her rifle with one hand and looked through the binoculars with the other. She saw a maroon beret on top of a guy's head and around eight or ten civilians with him. What the hell was going on?

She didn't expect her question to be answered but the man with the beret spotted her.

Soon, they were all running over to her.

Murphy looked a pure sight of confusion.

"Battalion Headquarters?" Oh, he was British, and he was soaking wet.

Clearing her throat, Murphy pointed down the road, behind her.

Breathlessly, the British man nodded. "Thank you".

And they all ran off again.

What was that all about?

…

Lieutenant Colonel O. Dobey, from the First British Airborne Division, swam across the Rhine river to tell Battalion HQ that he and a bunch of his troops and been captured across the river and he needed their help. They had been trapped there, in enemy lines, since Market Garden. He had around one hundred and forty men on the north side of the river.

So, Easy Company were assigned to handle this mission.

So, between 22nd and the 23rd of October, Heyliger called up for seventeen guys.

They were mainly from 3rd Platoon but Malarkey picked out Murphy and her squad to go along with them. She felt touched, truly did. Didn't matter how daring this mission was, it was good to have Malarkey's trust.

They had to cross the Lower Rhine River in complete darkness and bring back the British para's safely to the other side. There were two Easy Company riflemen per boat, Murphy was with Malarkey, Hughes and Jackson were on another boat.

Dobey had maintained communication with the Dutch underground on the days leading up to their mission; each night before the rescue, the escapees would creep closer to the Lower Rhine. So, they'd know where to gather at the rivers edge, each night at midnight on their side, a British 40mm Beaufort gun would fire out tracer bullets. And on the night of the mission, British artillery would fire incendiary shells into the high ground, west of Arnhem, to provide background fire that would silhouette those being rescued. And the rubber boats they'd use for the mission, were hidden behind trees, keeping them from German eyes.

At one in the morning, 23rd of October.

They were waiting for the signal to go off.

Murphy was nervous, Malarkey's gut was churning.

They were leaning up against one of the orchards, their backs to each other.

"This'll be a miracle if this works". He whispered to her.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "you think?"

Malarkey was about to respond, when a flash of light came from across the river.

A red light was blinking the, V-for-victory signal.

Malarkey clapped her arm, they moved towards a boat.

The machine-gunners from their Platoon were in position, ready to fire if things got out of control. Though, in the darkness, they'd surely get hit by friendly fire during their withdrawal. So much was at stake for this mission. But Easy was picked for a reason and they trusted Heyliger's plan of rescue.

They slid into the boats, eight or ten between each boat, Malarkey and Murphy were the lead boat with Heyliger and Welsh. The river was about fifty yards wide and this was Murphy's first time rowing a boat. Malarkey took on oar, she took the next.

The splashing against the water felt very loud, as their guns knocked against each other too. Murphy might have grimaced a few times. Heck, if someone even sneezed, then the mission was over.

It was very tense. Murphy was biting down on her lip, fully concentrating on not making too much noise. She looked up at Malarkey a few times who gave her a nod, letting her know that she was doing fine at rowing. Murphy breathed a tiny sigh out of her nose.

Well, that was good.

Fifteen minutes later and ten yards from the north shore, you could see fingers appearing from the bank. It was the British paras. Malarkey got out from the boat, water waist deep, and secured the boat.

"Are you the passengers?" He whispered.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you, so much".

Many of the soldiers who came forth were British, with their maroon berets.

When they got into the boat, they would pat your back and the likes.

They were a nice bunch, really grateful and polite.

A dozen came into their boat, most of them were British Paratroopers but they had a few escapees too. Two American pilots and a British tank Sargent commander.

Once they got to the south bank, they ditched the boats and led the escapees over the dike and to a facility they had set up just for them. It was a barn, with many refreshments. Basically, they had a party. And rightly so, these escapees deserved a good party after their ordeal.

However, Murphy had other plans.

She made her way up to Winters quarters and found the man looking out of the window.

The little facility they had set up for the escapees was opposite his house.

Murphy just stood there, admiring him for a few moments.

Winters turned around, a smile on his face and it widened when he saw her.

She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

When they broke apart, Murphy ran her fingers through his hair.

"Did you finish that report?"

Winters huffed softly, "since when do you take interest in my work ethics?"

"Hey, Dick". She scolded lightly, "I love everything you do".

Smiling, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm guessing you know it went well?"

"Judging by the party, yes". The smile never left his face, "I'll send my praises to Heyliger later. Once he's finished his party".

"You 'wanna go?"

Winters sighed quietly, "do I belong there?"

Murphy scowled at him, "Richard! Don't you ever – of course you do, I can't believe I even heard those words come out of you-"

His lips were back against hers.

"Sorry, Murphy Flynn". He mumbled.

Sighing, she looked at him, "well, I suppose I'll just have to forgive you".

Smiling, he pressed his lips against her neck.

Murphy bit down on her lip, while a smile tried to spread across her lips. "Dick?"

"Yes?" He whispered onto her neck.

God, she felt so woozy. Maybe she was just in love?

But maybe not. Because her vison went all fuzzy.

Murphy blinked and released her arms from around his neck. She took an uneasy step back from him, hand going to her chest, because her heart was beating strangely. Her skin felt clammy, like it was too hot and there was a horrible feeling in her stomach.

"Murphy?" Winters asked, worried now.

She gripped onto his arm, "I 'dunno".

"What'd you mean? Are you sick?"

"I don't – no, I'm not".

Murphy blinked a few times, taking in some deep breaths.

God, was she about to faint?

Winters had his arm wrapped around her waist, "let's sit you down, come on".

Murphy was sitting down on the armchair, same one as last time.

He was crouched in front of her, one hand in hers, the other on her forehead.

"I'm not sick". She croaked, "think it's just tiredness".

Winters sighed, "no, you're starving". He mumbled, "what happened to your rations?"

"They ran out ages ago, Dick". Murphy mumbled, leaning back against the headrest.

She could tell he was pissed off, at what, Murphy didn't know.

"We're all in the same boat". Murphy reminded him quietly, "it's fine".

This is where the relationship might have met obstacles. Winters wanted to give her all the food he got given to him from Battalion, but Murphy couldn't accept because what about everyone else? There was no favouritism when it came to an officer and an enlisted guy, that's where they'd get into trouble. And they had done so well, when Winters led Easy, he'd pick 2nd Platoon or her squad for objectives and patrols. Honestly, their relationship had been put to the test and they'd passed each one.

"I'll get a good sleep tonight". She said, "Malarkey's letting my squad off tonight".

Winters lips twitched at that.

"Everything is going to be fine". Murphy told him, "and if not today-"

"or tomorrow, on the third day". Winters kissed her softly on the lips, "everything will be better".

She smiled, "exactly, love".

A few days after that mission, they moved up to Driel.

2nd Platoon mostly did outpost duty and patrols.

No big objectives came their way.

They were stationed in an old farmhouse, guys would huddle around a radio and listen to "Arnhem Annie", a German propaganda broadcaster, inviting everyone to cross the river and surrender and live in luxury. God, no one was stupid enough to believe that crap. And in turn, the 506 POW's would use a loudspeaker and invite the Germans to surrender to them.

Murphy found it funny.

"Murph".

"Yeah?"

Malarkey had pulled her outside of the farmhouse.

"Winters wants me for this reconnaissance mission. A British artillery crops wants to use us as forward observers". He said, with a tiny sigh, "I mean, I'm not expert. But I want you, Jackson and Bain with me. How about it?"

"Me?" Murphy asked, slightly surprised.

He nodded, "you've done this stuff before, right?"

"Kind of". She said, "but…yeah, me and Jack will come along".

Malarkey smiled a little, "alright good, follow me".

Soon, Murphy, Malarkey, Winters and the British artillery officers were huddled together, going over maps and aerial photographs. All the British wanted was vehicular movement detected between Arnhem and Wageningen.

"You'll need to build a camouflaged duck blind as an observation post". One of the officers told the pair of them, "you need good visibility of the tree-lined east-west road. Report all vehicle movements and identify it in relation to predesignated landmarks. Report by radio to one of our officers who will be with Winters, south of the dike".

Malarkey looked confident.

And when they left the briefing, he shared his confidence with her.

"We've got Rod Bain with his radio, and you and Jackson. Can't see this being a problem".

They moved into their position the next day, at four-twenty in the morning.

Malarkey and Murphy set about make the duck blind in the long stretch of a ditch, while Bain and Jackson sat down for a moments rest.

It was an easy task, they weren't too nervous.

Once the blind was done, with branches and leaves covering them, Malarkey and Murphy got into the blind, with Bain and Jackson behind them. It was quiet, while they waited for dawn.

Jackson ended up falling asleep.

That was fine, Murphy would rather he got some rest.

But soon, the two Sargent's caught sight of something seventy-five yards in front of them.

Malarkey alerted Jackson and Bain, while taking the safety off his gun.

Sighing, Murphy did the same.

They moved up the ditch together, reaching an orchard tree.

There was movement again. There was a head bobbing up from the ditch.

Murphy, biting down on her lip, looked over at Malarkey.

A series of emotions crossed his face, "flash". He whispered.

Nothing. No response.

They both fingered their triggers. Not pulling just yet.

Though, their guns lay on the edge of the ditch.

And then, a black snout started to sniff at Malarkey's barrel on the gun.

German police dog. Doberman pinscher.

Murphy chewed the inside of her cheek. Was he going to shoot the dog or not?

No, he was only interested in the Soldier holding that dog back.

And Malarkey continued to challenge that German soldier.

"Me friend!" Someone new shouted, holding up something white wavering in the distance.

"Murphy, move up the ditch and be ready to fire, I'll use the tommy-gun if there's any trouble".

Giving him a nod, Murphy carefully moved passed the dog and headed up the ditch. Looking over, she saw eight Germans. One of them was holding up a white flag. Eight Germans managed to get here, if they hadn't left their position.

Getting up, she approached them and started to search for weapons.

Reaching into one Germans jacket, she found a P38. A gun.

Murphy, not knowing what else to do, ended up smacking the guy in the back of his head with the butt end of her rifle.

"The hell you doing, Murphy?" Malarkey whispered.

"He had a gun". She mumbled.

"Bain, get up here!"

The German patrol were begging them, scared stiff. They thought they were going to kill them.

In reality, this German patrol could have easily killed them.

They were more than a mile away from their outfit and more Germans could have been close by. That - was a close call. And they had only been in that duck blind and ditch for forty minutes or so, before they left their position.

Bain radioed Winters to ask what they were to next.

He wanted the Germans in for interrogation.

Great.

So, they had about six-hundred yards of flat ground to cover and Malarkey wanted to run.

"Mach schnell!" Malarkey had never shouted so loud.

The Germans started running, dog included.

They all ran, bolting across this open field because Germans could have been hiding out.

And thanks to Malarkey's orders and careful planning, they got the Germans to division.

What a rush.

However, that same night, they lost Heyliger.

He got shot by one of their own men and was immediately evacuated.

During the first week of November, their replacement officer, Norman Dike joined them.

He was from Division HQ, a very snobby-military career type. And completely unexperienced in combat. They learned right away that Dike wasn't a good solider, he wasn't like Winters, Heyliger or Meehan. And he certainly wasn't a good leader. So, they gave him a new nickname. Foxhole Norman. Because whenever there was action, the man wasn't around.

"It doesn't matter". Heffron told her, "we've got great NCO's".

Murphy smiled a little.

"Yeah – including you, you ass".

She grinned then and shoved him lightly, "thanks, Babe".

And then, three weeks into November. Canadian units relieved them, and they were finally getting pulled off the line and were headed to Mourmelon for some much needed showers, sleep and food other than apples.


	28. Chapter 28

They went through eighty-days without a shower or bath and seventy-three of those eighty days were spent out on the front lines. They stunk to holy hell, as Heffron would simply put it. So, of course, they all rushed into those showers, like a celebrity icon was standing there, waiting for them. Murphy had never scrubbed her body so hard in all her life, she was near bleeding. All the mud, blood, sweat and grim came off her body with soap and a hard scrubbing. Between her ears, toes – everywhere. And she washed her hair, not caring how long it would take to dry.

Cleaned and as fresh as a daisy, Murphy left the showers after changing into a fresh uniform.

They had a hot meal and went to bed – an actual bed, pillows and fresh sheets.

God, Murphy loved this camp.

Mourmelon sat outside the village of Mourmelon-le-Grand, close to Reims.

And there was already talk of weekend passes into Reims, Paris and even London.

Everyone was excited about getting out and being normal for a weekend.

However, during the week, it was back to light drills and training the replacements.

"You're not getting a new guy". Malarkey told her the next morning, "they're happy with you having Hughes and Jackson. They're thinking a new guy will mess it up".

So, no one would be replacing Carson. Which was fine by her.

Another good thing about this camp, the NCO's had their own barrack. It was mainly Toccoa guys, which was a lot of fun. After everyone had gone to bed, they'd stay up and listen to the radio. Just like old-times. And when they weren't training, most of the guys had signed up to be on the football team, there was a game scheduled for Christmas day, they weren't expected to jump until Spring. Combat, that took a back seat for the moment.

It was around the eighth of December.

Murphy was heading back from the mess-hall after breakfast, when two arms were wrapped around her waist, hoisting her up into the air. She let out a tiny yelp, this guy was spinning her around, she was growing slightly dizzy. And a few others started laughing, while Heffron and Toye raced across to them.

"Put her down, Gurno!"

"Bill?!" She exclaimed, "you stupid, mick!"

Guarnere laughed and set her down.

Murphy turned to face him and pulled him into a hug. "You utter arse, Bill Guarnere! You're never taking me out on a motorbike again, are we clear?"

Still laughing, he hugged her back. "Clear as the day, Murph".

Smiling, she pulled back. "You went AWOL, didn't you?"

"You're damn fucking right I did, Murph". He said, "got a boat back to France and hitchhiked to this place".

Murphy laughed quietly, "I'm happy to see you, Bill. And you'd be proud of Malark, he did well in your absence".

"Yeah…where is the Irish?"

"Breakfast". She replied, "Winters know you're back?"

"He does". Guarnere then added, "wants to see you about something".

Murphy quickly turned around, making her way towards Battalion.

When she walked inside and neared Winters office, his orderly, Zielinski was outside.

"Sargent Flynn". He greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, Zielinski". She greeted back, "Captain Winters wanted to see me?"

Nodding, the orderly opened the door and she stepped inside.

Nixon and Welsh were there as well, both with a smug smile.

"I'm hoping you can convince him, Murph". Nixon said.

She raised an eyebrow, "sir?"

Winters sighed, "we've got a weekend pass into Paris".

Her eyes widened, "Paris?"

Welsh grinned, "I think you're going to Paris, Dick".

Murphy practically ran over to the desk, "we should probably go".

Crossing his arms, he asked, "why do you think that?"

"Come on…City of lights, right? Bet it'll be fun". Murphy said, "you know, just the two of us, parading the streets, seeing that big old tower".

Winters smiled, amused. "You mean the Eiffel Tower, Murphy?"

"Yes, a very famous tall thingy in the middle of – can we go?"

Chuckling, he leaned forwards and kissed her softly on the lips. "Back your bags, Murphy Flynn. We leave in an hour".

You wouldn't believe the excitement and the series of butterflies in her stomach.

Murphy ran through the camp, pulled open the barrack door and started packing everything into her bag. God, she didn't even know what kinds of crap she stuffed in there, she just had to pack a bag. Guarnere was chuckling, as if he already knew what was happening. The others just gave her the oddest of looks, while things were falling onto the ground.

"Paris – Paris". She mumbled under her breath, "eh – is that enough?"

"Yes!" Toye exclaimed, "get lost, Murph".

"Have fun!" Guarnere grinned, "we'll behave".

An hour later, the couple where on a train to Paris.

They had a private compartment to themselves, given to them by the train conductor.

"Please, have privacy". He said to them, "thank you for your services".

Well, it seemed the French were nice after all.

Murphy sat next to him, leaning against his side while they looked out of the window.

They talked about everything and anything. Winters talked about school life as a young boy, and how much he loved the subject's geography and reading. That explained a lot. He then went on about his mother and how much of an influence he was in her life.

"First one up, last one to bed. She'd make a remarkable Company Commander".

He also told her that his mother, Edith, told him to always respect women. And how his father, Richard, said he always had to drink responsibly and if he ever was to drink, to do so in the house.

"I decided not to drink". He said, "and I hope I have kept my mother's wishes in regard to women".

Murphy smiled, "you certainly have, love". She then added, "seems like you've always had leadership skills. And good people around you, Dick".

Winters kissed the top of her head, "what about you?"

"School?"

"Yeah – let's start with school".

Snorting, Murphy shrugged. "Well, teachers hated us Irish immigrants. They used to fabricate my grades, give me bad reports and the likes. Until I turned sixteen and one teacher took a shine into me. He's the guy who got me into Toccoa, actually. Was a general or some sort in the great war, knew Colonel Sink. Anyway, I guess I liked reading too". Murphy said, "but you know, my main focus was getting my brothers fed and looked after".

"How are Conor and Robbie?" He asked, while playing with her hair.

"They're fine, as far as I'm aware". Murphy said, "I don't really write many letters".

"Me neither". He said, "we've had a lot going on".

She sighed, "agreed, Captain".

"What about Brooklyn, what was that like?"

"Oh, it was alright". She said, "neighbourhood was full of us Irish, Italians. We all lived in the same block of apartments. Pretty poor area. They looked out for you, you know? Mrs Patrick always made sure we had a place to go if things got rough. And I didn't have any friends back in Brooklyn, just Noah".

Winters sighed softly, "well, you've got plenty now".

When they reached Paris, Murphy expected it to be turned upside down but where they were dropped off, it was fine. The first thing they did was put their bags down into a lovely hotel room, on top of a massive double bed. Winters took her hand and they left the room because if they stayed a minute longer, they'd never leave.

The first thing they did, which struck Murphy as odd.

Clothes shopping.

Winters wanted to buy clothes, Murphy helped him pick things out; trousers, socks, shirts. She made sure he had plenty of socks, not wanting a repeat of Heffron. And she even picked up a few pairs for her squad and Heffron – just in case. She got some socks and the likes for herself too. It couldn't hurt to be prepared.

Winters wanted to take her dress shopping, she declined.

They ended up taking a tour around the city. The couple learned more than they wanted to know about the number of bolts and nuts in the Eiffel Tower and when the guy started talking about beheading's and the likes, Murphy took his hand.

"We're going AWOL, come on".

Winters was happy enough to leave.

He almost forget what it was like to run around because he wanted to. Winters had a smile, while he chased after Murphy, around this glorious park. It was lovely, with Corinthian columns, which Murphy weaved in and out of, trying not to land in the water. When he did eventually catch her, Winters picked her up and kissed her. Murphy placed her hands on his neck, legs locked around him.

Paris. The city of lights, love and all things wonderful.

It would have been nice to come back here after the war.

But for that day, they never thought about war. They didn't talk about combat, replacements and their new CO Dike. They talked about their farm, their life together and argued lightly about baby names. Because Murphy liked Lewis as a name, Winters didn't want to give his best friend the satisfaction. It was their best day and they were living their best life together.

Hand in hand, the couple walked down the busy streets.

They saw many of men from different units, it was still daylight. So, they weren't too drunk yet.

And Winters took her out for a lovely meal, in this beautiful little cafe on the edge of a street.

The waiter was dressed in a tuxedo, with a friendly face.

Murphy had never experienced this sort of service before.

There was a candle in the centre of their table.

It was all very romantic.

"A church wedding?"

"I'd hope so".

Murphy nodded slowly, "yeah…as long as it's a nice church".

Winters chuckled, "Murphy, they're all nice churches".

"What's that thing newly weds do after the wedding?"

"Oh, the honeymoon?" Winters said, "yes, where would you like to go?"

Murphy thought about that for a few moments, "Edinburgh".

He smiled, "I like Edinburgh".

"Me too". She said, "it's a great city. Full of history, I learned so much".

Winters raised an eyebrow, "with Martin and Guarnere?"

Murphy shrugged, "I learned some things".

He chuckled, "when you weren't busy getting a tattoo".

She shook her head, "you're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"I don't need to do that, you'll have it forever".

Murphy chuckled softly, "yeah – yeah, I will".

The meal was placed in front of them, Murphy didn't know what the hell she ordered, everything was in French. But whatever it was, it tasted good. And when the main meal was done with, the waiter brought over something she was familiar with, chocolate cake. God, she loved chocolate. Murphy ate her slice at a super speed, Winters was sitting there, with an amused face the whole time.

God, he loved her.

There was never a moment in the day or night, when Murphy shied away from being herself.

Not that she was confident, just that she never felt the need to never not be herself.

Winters made that easier.

They took a bus back to the hotel. Murphy was holding his hand, kissing his knuckles, when he turned around, because he felt eyes staring at him. It was a boy, maybe ages sixteen or seventeen. He was smiling at the Captain, Winters gave him a smile back. And then his eyes shifted, they zoned out and he turned back around, staring into space.

Murphy frowned, noticing his eyes looked a little wet.

Curious, she looked behind her, it was only a boy.

Combat was catching up with him.

And Winters was pretty quiet, Murphy didn't disturb his thoughts.

When they got back to the hotel, she gently pushed the Captain onto the bed and went off into the bathroom, deciding to draw him a bath. She filled the tub up with warm water, checking the temperature first, before she left and took Winters hand. They remained quiet, while she took off his jacket, shirt and the rest of his clothes. He got into the tub, letting out a sigh of content.

Smiling, Murphy sat on the edge of the tub and grabbed this clear bowl from the ground.

Filling the bowl up with water, Murphy started to wash and run her fingers through his hair.

He had his eyes closed, falling into a relaxed state.

Murphy started to hum, I'll be seeing you, while she gave his hair a good wash.

A small tear rolled down his face, Murphy wiped it away gently with her thumb.

And she continued to wash his hair.

Winters opened his eyes again, watching her.

"Waters nice".

"Good". She said softly.

"Perhaps you'd like to join me?"

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy carefully placed the bowl down and got up.

After removing her clothes, she took the rubber band out from her hair, it felt down in gentle locks, passing her shoulders. Carefully, she stepped into the warm water and sat in front of him. Winters kissed her shoulder, then her neck. Smiling, she leaned back against his chest, their lips met. His lips were wet, from the water trailing down his face from his hair. She placed her hand on the side of his neck.

Slowly, Murphy turned around, sitting on his lap.

Her hands were placed on the back of his neck now.

"We're lucky, me and you. Cause we're in love and when this all ends, we won't have to explain to each other why we're sometimes quiet or why we don't feel like smiling every year on dates that mean a great deal to us. I don't know what troubles you so much, love. And I can't change it but if you'll let me, I want to make it go away for a short while".

Winters placed his hand on the side of her face, "what keeps you up at night?"

"Fantasies". She whispered, "visualising us, on our farm, with little Lewis's running around".

He smiled at that, "what's on our farm?"

Murphy hummed softly, "horses, plenty of those".

"Of course". Winters nodded.

"No pigs". She added, "hate the bloody things after – well, you know".

He snorted softly, "alright, noted".

"Cows for milking…sheep for the wool. Lots of fruit and vegetables. We'll build an empire from our little corner of the universe".

Winters kissed her softly for a few moments, before pulling back with a content sigh.

"What if we have a girl?"

"Oh, she'll still be called Lewis".

He chuckled quietly.

Murphy smiled, playing with the back of his wet hair.

"She'll be beautiful". He said, "just like you".

Rubbing her lips together, she kissed the tip of his nose. "Casper".

"What's that?"

"I like the name Casper".

Winters nodded slowly, "yeah…that is a good name".

"Rosie, for a girl".

His eyes softened, while he imagined a mini version of Murphy running around a farm. With freckles on her button nose, hair curly and light. All the while Murphy saw a little Casper, with blue eyes, red hair, freckled skin and covered in mud.

"Where is this farm, Dick Winters?"

He smiled, "Pennsylvania, along the foothills of the Blue Mountains".

"That sounds magical". She said quietly.

"It is". He said, "you'd move back to America?"

Murphy nodded, "I love America. Wish I had seen more of it". She then added, "and I'd follow you anywhere".

The couple moved onto the bed after getting dry.

They spend a good portion of the night being together and it was one in the morning when Winters was the first to fall asleep. Murphy had her head resting on his bare chest, drawing out circles lightly with her finger. She was awake, wide awake. She wanted to savour every moment they had alone in Paris, Murphy didn't want this to end.

With a tiny sigh, she carefully sat up and put on Winters shirt.

Getting out of bed, Murphy walked over to the window, peaking outside.

The city was still alive, with drunk soldiers laughing and singing merry tunes.

Murphy thought about her friends, who were probably doing the same.

And her mind started to drift back to moments of laughter.

Which is what led her to think about him.

 _"Rob?"_

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"I'm glad you punched me in the face"._

Murphy missed his laugh.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she tried not to think about Bloser.

But it was hard. Everything was quiet, she didn't have anything to distract her.

He was taken from them too soon. She really did miss him a lot.

Combat felt like miles away and Murphy felt a little lost.

It wasn't that she missed being out on the line but being around people, who hadn't been out there with them, was very strange. Her mum would never understand, her brothers were too young. Murphy couldn't imagine telling her mum everything she had seen and what they had to do in order to live another day.

Besides from Noah, Bloser was Murphy's first ever proper friend.

And losing him, it left this ache in her belly that she couldn't get rid of.

Especially on nights like these, when all was very quiet and dark.

Murphy was exhausted, absolutely drained. More mentally than anything else. She felt it more than ever right in that moment. Slamming into her, like a blast to the chest. Holland went on for too long. Operation Market Garden and the Island, were both rewarding and devastating. Too many they had lost and, in the end, gained a terrible commanding officer. Three weeks that guy spent with them in Holland and he had already left a bad impression on them.

Grabbing onto the side table behind her, Murphy slowly lowered herself onto the ground.

Sitting down, she stared out at the wall opposite her.

What the hell was in store for them next?

Murphy didn't even notice Winters sit down next to her.

Until she felt his arm brush against hers.

Swallowing, she looked away from the wall and towards him.

"The farm?"

Murphy shook her head, looking away from him again.

Sighing quietly, Winters kissed the side of her head.

Closing her eyes, she grabbed onto his arm. "It was quiet, I got scared".

Frowning, he nodded. He could understand that. Quiet was never good in combat.

Only, they weren't in combat.

Murphy rubbed her forehead, "it's stupid, eh?"

"No, sweetheart". He mumbled softly, "it's not stupid, not at all".

Opening her eyes, she bit on her bottom lip.

Winters looked at her, "what were you thinking about?"

Her smile wavered, "Rob".

"Yeah? What do you think he'd say to all this?"

Murphy huffed softly, "oh, plenty".

Winters smiled, a little sadly. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into his side. "What about you and Captain Nixon, are you best friends?"

"Yeah – I suppose we are". He confirmed quietly. "We met at officer training, during our time at OCS, both officer candidates at the time. I figured we were dramatically opposite. He's a free spirit, likes the wilder things in life. For me, I prefer quiet evenings in. But we shared the same understandings of life, funny that, huh?" He said, "he's the finest officer I know, fearless and very trustworthy. Sort of like how I see all you NCO's. All very reliable, fearless and trustworthy".

"I think he'll be your friend for life, Dick Winters". Murphy whispered softly. "And I don't think I'll ever get rid of Wild Bill".

Winters smiled and kissed the top of her head, "no, he's very fond of you. You're both completely different people".

"Guess we share the same understanding of life".

He huffed out a tiny laugh, "I can see that".

Murphy was quiet for a few moments, thinking carefully of how to word this.

"Back on the Island, it was after we relieved B Company and had to occupy the house, remember?"

Winters nodded slowly, "yeah, I think so".

"Well, Joe called Babe up with his machine-gun, Jim told him to stay with me and my lads. And then we got hit, the house did, Joe was all chewed up and Jim died". Murphy sighed, "Babe was really torn-up about that, Dick…Jim saved his life, really, if you think about it. And that must be a lot of weight on someone's shoulders, you know?"

He was back to frowning again.

"And I was thinking". Murphy rubbed her lips together, "before we boarded the planes to Normandy…Rob was meant to be with me". Swallowing, she closed her eyes again. "But then they wanted a switch or something and Boyle took his spot. Rob was never meant to be with Lieutenant Meehan. He was meant to be with us, in our plane".

"Murphy". Winters whispered, "you can't – you can't think like that. It's not good".

She nodded slowly, "I know that".

He drew circles on her shoulder.

Murphy wrapped her arm around his waist, face pressing against his chest.

And now she had said it out loud, Murphy didn't bring it up again.

…

They had one day and night in Paris.

Murphy and Winters arrived back to Mourmelon on the Sunday.

The first thing she did, was give Heffron a pair of socks.

"Murph, you're a doll". Heffron grinned.

"Don't lose them, eh?" She teased playfully.

The best surprise of all was seeing Buck again.

Murphy managed to catch him, just as he was leaving the officer barracks.

"Hello, sir".

Smiling, Buck shook her hand. "How're you doing, Murph?"

"Yeah, good – how're you doing?"

"Better". He said firmly, "how was Paris?"

A soft smile spread across her lips, "the best, sir".

Buck gave her shoulder a squeeze, "I'm glad you're good, Murph. I missed you all".

"We missed you too, Buck". She then added, "have they filled you on?"

"Dike?"

Murphy nodded.

"They covered him, yeah". He said, "we'll keep it between us, okay?"

"Of course, sir". Murphy agreed, "what did Bill say about him?"

Buck huffed, "what'd you think, Murph?"

She soon gave him a toothy grin, "okay – stupid question".

Murphy intended on a quiet evening in the barracks, wanting to finish off her book.

She sat up against her pillow on the bed, with a Hershey's bar beside her.

And she had just opened the first page, when Grant and Guarnere walked over to her.

Murphy sighed, "no".

"We didn't say nothing!" Guarnere exclaimed with a grin.

She looked at the two of them, "it's a no – whatever it is, no. Get lost, I'm not-"

"Murph, don't be so boring". Grant cut her off shortly, "now, come on. We're breaking into the village and we're 'gonna steal a few bottles of champagne and have a party".

Murphy blinked, "that was oddly specific, Chuck".

Guarnere shrugged, "we ain't beating around the bush, Murph".

Moaning, she put her book down. "How do you do that?" She asked, while sitting on the edge of her bed, putting her boots on. "Every – bloody – time!" Murphy grunted, while she tied her laces.

Guarnere and Grant were both laughing.

"It's not funny". She mumbled, getting up.

Outside of the barrack, Toye, Christenson and Martin were waiting for them.

"Right, what's the plan?" Martin asked, "we head into the village, then what?"

"Thought we could use Murphy's idea". Grant said, "when we had to rescue Bill from the cells".

"Okay". Christenson said, "let's go".

Six Sargent's from Easy Company all snuck out of the camp by climbing over the fence.

The MP's didn't spot them either.

Murphy thought this was ridiculous.

But she wasn't about to complain, Guarnere was back, she'd never get away with it.

The village was only a mile outside of camp. And it was quiet because it was getting dark.

The liquor store was only down the street, the six of them made there way there.

Once they neared the store, Guarnere picked up a giant rock from the ground.

 _ **Crash!**_

It went right through the glass.

Murphy decided to wait outside with Christenson, while the others walked inside the store.

They ended up taking around ten cases of champagne.

"You said a few!" She hissed.

Guarnere shrugged, "we got carried away".

"No shit, Bill". Christenson whispered.

Murphy had no idea how they slipped passed the MP's with ten cases of champagne, but they made it back to the barrack and they all took a bottle each. This was going to turn into another night like Edinburgh, only they wouldn't be getting tattoos this time.

After that first bottle, Murphy soon relaxed and started to care less about this.

And after the third, she was very drunk.

Staggering across the barrack, she opened the door.

It was snowing.

Murphy stepped outside and got down on her knees, while she rubbed her hands on the snow.

Inside, this were getting pretty hectic.

They were ripping bunks out of the floor, tossing them out the window, breaking anything, they could get their hands on, they even started a small fire. Murphy wasn't interested in what they were doing, she was very much focused on the snow.

The noise had soon dragged the attention from Lipton.

But before he walked into the barrack, he stopped in front of her.

"Murph?"

Hiccuping with a grin, she looked up at him. "Look at all this snow…imagine if it was sand, but still cold – no wait. Warm snow". She then said, "I like the beach".

Lipton sighed, "Murphy, get up".

Frowning a little, she slowly got onto her feet, having trouble finding her balance. "Where's the floor even going right now – Lip?"

He shook his head slowly from side to side, "Jesus, Murph…why'd you drink so much, huh?"

Murphy shrugged, "ask me tomorrow. I won't be happy".

They walked into the barrack, Lipton gave them all holy hell.

"I want this cleaned up, now!"

Murphy grimaced and then sighed, when she saw her bed. "Guys…you ruined 'me bed".

She walked over, picking up a bit of headboard.

"Where's the rest?"

Guarnere grinned, "outside, Murph".

She slept on a mattress that night.

And in the morning, Lipton yelled for them to get up.

Murphy, like the rest, was hungover.

"I hate you all". She mumbled, "why'd you tell me to go? I just wanted to read The Hobbit".

"Quiet, Murph". Guarnere grunted, "where the fuck's my bed?"

She lifted her head from the mattress, "outside with mine, you arse!"

The Sargent's almost crawled into the mess hall, where they had a couple of coffees each.

No one ate much that morning.

Martin had his head on the table, Grant was sleeping on his hand.

And Toye was giving the wall a blank stare.

Weren't they just the life of the party?

Buck found it funny.

"God, you all look terrible".

Guarnere looked at him, "don't we just feel it too, sir".

Buck took a seat beside them, "Lip told me you trashed the place".

Murphy opened her eyes, "did I?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "You were playing in the snow".

Sighing, she picked up her coffee. "Good".

Vowing to never drink again.

That, was a mistake.

...

It was the middle of the night.

Everyone was fast asleep.

Outside, snow continued to fall but it was pushed to the back of their minds. The date was December the 18th, Christmas was coming up shortly, that big football game was on. They were all pretty excited about that, and Paris on New Years Eve. There was a lot to look forward too.

However, there was soon a loud knock on the door.

Everyone started to rub their eyes, grunting about the time.

"It's two in the morning". Malarkey said, "who the hells at the door?"

Murphy slowly sat up, stretching her arms above her head.

Then, someone from division HQ barged inside the barrack, turning on the light.

Well, no one liked that.

"Jesus Christ". Guarnere hissed.

"Get ready to head out. A major German offensive is under way somewhere in Belgium. Caught us with our pants down".

Murphy's shoulders dropped.

 _Shit._

He continued, "already put a helluva dent in our line. So, pile all your personal items in the middle of the living room and report to company supply to get whatever you can in terms of equipment".

No one said anything.

They all stared at each other, mildly confused.

"Now!" He barked.

"Okay, okay". Some of them mumbled.

They all got out of bed and quickly changed into their uniforms.

"What line? Where in Belgium?"

They knew so little.

What the hell was going on?

And company supply didn't have much of anything. They didn't get their supplies delivered to them. So, they had little ammo, guns, rations and no winter uniforms. They weren't prepared to go out and fight, not in the slightest. Their boots weren't waterproof, they didn't have winter coats, scarves, gloves – nothing.

Murphy and Guarnere woke up the rest of them.

Jackson and Hughes shot up sharply, eyes still half closed.

"Pack everything you have, we're moving out".

"Really?" Hughes asked, eyes now wide. "We don't have anything!"

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy started to hand him his uniform. "It'll be fine, come on, get dressed – Jack, you too. Let's get moving".

Everything was in a mad rush to get everyone and everything together.

Guys were losing their minds.

"No ammo-"

"no winter gear-"

"where's my fucking sock?!"

It was mental.

Murphy's boys kept pretty quiet, while they packed their things into one of the convoy trucks. It didn't have a bench to sit on, and it looked more like a cattle truck than anything. She couldn't tell if they were nervous, though, everyone was a little nervous. Murphy had caught more information on what was going on, from Guarnere, of course.

"The Germans have launched a counteroffensive. They've blasted a hole in the western front, and American forces are retreating. We're headed for the Ardennes forest in Belgium, where the Germans have their eyes on taking Antwerp, our key allied port. We're heading into this place called Bastogne, it has seven roads leading to it and is a prized price for the advancing armies. I ain't 'gonna lie to you, Murph".

She didn't smile or snort this time.

Guarnere sighed, "it ain't 'gonna be good".

Murphy crossed her arms, look down. "How's your leg?"

"Murph, pain don't bother me one damn bit. You get a headache, bang your head against a fucking wall, it goes away".

Shaking her head, she looked back at him. "How the hell are we friends?"

He soon smiled, "because opposites attract, dummy".

Murphy smiled a little, "right".

Guarnere gave her shoulder a nudge, "ready for this?"

"No, we're not ready". She mumbled, "but, as it happens, we're always ready".

Soon, they were all packed into the back of these trucks like sardines.

It was very tight, they kept on stepping on toes, and legs. People got pissed off quickly.

A lot of brand-new replacements were joining them too, which was a daunting thought.

Brand-new, as in, just arrived last week.

Murphy didn't feel prepared, though, anything was possible with these lot.

A few hours later, they jumped out into darkness, a few kilometres away from Bastogne.

Soon, after relieving themselves, they formed up into columns and marched forward.

They could hear a firefight going on, straight where they were headed.

And soon realised, they'd be surrounded.

"They've got us surrounded, the poor bastards".


	29. Chapter 29

The walk to Bastogne was interesting.

They ended up bumping into a retreating troop, practically running towards them.

Soon, everyone was taking their ammo, guns, rations, winters gear.

Murphy told her squad to grab what they could.

A Lieutenant, he came by with a jeep full of ammo and got the retreating guys to put their weapons and supplies down, so the 506 could take them. You grabbed ammo, that was the first thing they needed the most. The rest, food and clothes, that came second. And when your hands were full, you'd had off ammo to the guy next to you or behind you.

It turned out to be the 28th Division pulling out, they were scared to death.

They'd never seen anything like it, but it didn't seem to phase them.

Though, some of the replacements were a little struck.

"Ignore it". Jackson told one of them, "we won't be like that".

"Scared?"

"We'll be scared". He said, "we just ain't running".

"Don't go up there!" One of them said, "there are so many Germans! They're 'gonna kill everybody!"

"That's our job!" Someone from Easy said.

"But there's a million of them!" The scared soldier warned them.

Murphy shook her head, "shut up, alright? We know we're in the shit".

Heffron clapped her shoulder, while they continued to march forward. "Hey, what the hell outfit you in?" He asked one of them.

"Artillery". He mumbled lowly in response.

"Jesus. I hope you at least lowered your gun and blew them".

"No, we didn't have time".

Murphy raised an eyebrow, she and Heffron shared the same expression.

Guarnere would have given them hell for that, "stand your ground!" They would have yelled.

Clearing her throat, they moved forward again.

They all felt ashamed of the retreating troops if anything else.

These were American soldiers.

The march led them into the town of Bastogne, and it was a devastating sight.

A once beautiful sight, in shambles. Everything was just destroyed.

Hughes looked a little stunned.

Murphy gave him a gentle nudge, "come on, pally".

They walked about a mile and a half outside Bastogne and set-up their main line of resistance. The town had a railroad running through, another crossroad. And seven roads ran through the middle of town. They had to set-up a perimeter defence, surrounding Bastogne in a circle and hold it until further notice. This was far different from France and Holland, they were always up and moving around, here, the Company were all together in one place.

Their job was to hold the line and stay alive.

Their position was in a wood, thirty to forty feet into the woods. They put outposts just behind the front of the woods, Winters set up HQ behind them, at the south edge of the woods. The woods looked out onto a grazing field, which sloped down to the village of Foy. The trees in the woods were pine, eight to ten inches in diameter, planted in rows. The 501st were on their right flank. They had an artillery Battalion and an armoured Division with them too.

They all dug their foxholes, it was a quiet night.

The fighting was to the north, in Noville, four kilometres away.

However, you could see that the retreating guys had taken quite the hit.

Lots of 88's, shell cases and tree branches all over. Dead GI's, limbs – lots of arms and legs hanging from trees, poking out from the ground. Lots of blood and guts. That was Bastogne, they weren't panicked. They all knew trouble was coming.

Murphy tossed an arm out from the foxhole hole she was digging up.

"Hey!"

Turning around, she saw Heffron rubbing his cheek.

"Who the hell is slapping me?"

Murphy, God, she wanted to laugh.

It was one of those moments, Heffron stared back at her.

"Did you just – what the hell, Murph?"

A tiny giggle pressed out from her lips, "sorry, Babe".

"Hey, Sarge?"

Murphy rubbed the tip of her cold nose, "yup, Hughes?"

"How're we 'gonna survive the cold?"

"Well…what did we learn in training, Hughes?"

Murphy resumed digging up her foxhole.

Hughes frowned a little, "uh…keep moving?"

"Right, what else?"

"Change your socks, regularly". Hughes started to list off, "make sure you're well insulated underneath. Stay close with your foxhole buddy. Stay out of the wind. Stay dry".

She nodded, "yup – that about sums it up. But if you're in a sticky situation, get creative".

"Will do, Sarge". Hughes smiled, "hey, Jack – you hear that? You creative?"

Murphy snorted softly and got into her foxhole, there, that would do it.

She was sharing with Toye.

"Think it's deep enough?"

Toye nodded, "well, we ain't going to China".

Murphy smiled and shoved his arm, "shut up, Joe".

"What'd you make of all this shit, Murph?"

"It's a dump, pal".

Smiling, Toye soon sat down, rifle in front of him.

Murphy sat down next to him and pulled out her blanket, "get yours, we'll double up".

"Yeah, alright".

Guarnere and Buck were close to them, just a few feet.

It was comforting having them close by and Winters, who was only seventy-five yards behind them. Nixon was there with him. They were really lucky to have two Battalion officers so close-by. The only problem they faced was the line itself, it was stretched very thin with many gaps. They'd need regular patrols, to keep the Germans away from their line.

The Bois Jacques.

It wasn't snowing, it wasn't raining – it was dry.

And for that night, their safe haven.

The next morning, on the 20th, brought a thick fog. It hung over the woods and fields like a white blanket. You couldn't see anything, not even the guys a few foxholes away from you. And boy, was it not just the coldest morning of your life. Murphy almost gasped, it was so cold. She looked up at Toye, his lips were blue. And with his eyes closed, he looked like a corpse.

So, she nudged him.

Toye muttered, "what?"

Murphy shook her head, "look at us, Joe, we're blue".

He tried to open his eyes, it took a few attempts. "Eyes were glued shut".

"Jesus".

Toye gave his toes a wiggle, "fuck – I'm numb".

"Same". Murphy rubbed her hands together, "best get moving or something".

So, they both got up and checked in on everyone.

Murphy made sure her boys were alive.

"You alive?"

They both opened their eyes, which were red from lack of sleep.

"Barely".

Murphy crouched in front of the foxhole, "good enough – get any sleep?"

Jackson shrugged, "few hours. What's going on?"

"Nothing, why don't you chip away at your foxhole for a bit? Needs better cover. Make it six feet in length, two feet wide. Three or four feet deep. An L-shape, long stretch for sleeping, short end for shooting".

"Alright, Sarge". Hughes said, "we got any better tools?"

"Use this". Malarkey soon handed him a shovel.

"Thank you, Sarge".

Murphy smiled and got back up, looking at Malarkey. "Thanks, Malark".

"I'll get yours done after". He told her, "we've been digging holes for the others".

"I could-"

"no, Bill wants to see you".

Murphy stuffed her hands into her pockets, "right you are, Malark".

Malarkey smiled, "see you around, Murph".

She made the short walk towards Guarnere, Buck was already making his way around 2nd, wanting to check and see if everyone was okay. Mostly, they complained about the cold. Which was fine, she had a little rant about it this morning when she thought Toye wasn't alive.

"Bill?"

"There you are". He looked up from his foxhole, "take Heffron and a medic, go get supplies in Bastogne, medics are short".

Murphy nodded, "sure thing".

"And while you're there, see if they have anything else". Guarnere said, "be nosey, Murph. Don't let me down".

She huffed out a tiny laugh, "okay, Bill".

He smiled, "get lost, Murph".

Murphy grabbed Heffron and Ralph Spina, one of their medics.

Gene had been going around each guy, asking for their aid kits.

"We're running low on morphine". He told her, "you got any, Flynn?"

Nodding, she reached into her pocket and handed him the aid kit.

"Thank you". Gene gave her a smile, "careful out there, huh?"

"Will do". She said, "have you seen Winters about this?"

"I did, yeah". He replied, "told me to hook up with doc Ryan".

Murphy nodded, "anything else?"

Gene sighed, "well…1st Battalion pulled back, they're in reserve".

She bit down on her lip, "damn – alright, thanks, Gene".

Giving her shoulder a clap, he nodded. "Stay warm".

"Yeah, you too, pal".

It was a mile and a half back into the town.

The aid station was a church.

The Germans had captured most of the 101st medical company. They lost a lot of doctors, aids and supplies. That was a great loss in the division. Ralph wasn't given a lot. Not enough to offer help to every single wounded man Easy would surely suffer with. Still, they had to take what was given to them, without much complaint. Nothing could be done.

While there, Murphy grabbed sheets, towels, flower sacks and burlap. Anything to keep them warm and layered up. Heffron placed a lot into his musette bag, as well as Ralph. They were well prepared. Murphy spotted a house, where they were serving hot food to some of the troops.

"Fancy a hot meal?"

So, the three of them sat outside a house, eating hot soup and hard bread.

"This will be our last hot meal". Heffron said.

"Probably". Murphy stated, "best enjoy it, eh?"

It was starting to get dark, they began heading back towards the woods.

Heffron suggested a shortcut.

"We've been here a day; how do you know it's a shortcut?" Murphy asked.

"I just do".

"So full of it, Babe".

And just like that, they had no idea where they were.

Murphy was about to chew him up for that but Heffron fell into a foxhole.

Sighing, she grabbed his arm, helping him get out.

"Hinkle! Hinkle!" A voice screamed from the hole, "ist das du?!"

Eyes widened, Ralph grabbed his other arm and they pulled him out.

The German revealed his cover.

They turned and ran back, while he took a few shots at them.

"Hinkle your ass, Kraut!" Heffron yelled.

They stopped running when the shots had quietened down.

Murphy laughed lightly, "Hinkle?"

"I know". Heffron grinned, breathlessly.

"Babe has a new friend". Ralph teased with a smile.

They made it back to their line, Heffron was telling everyone about Hinkle.

They all found it pretty funny.

Murphy was handing out what she picked up from town to everyone.

"Think you could do more runs into town, Murph?" Buck asked.

"Yeah, I'll take the lads tomorrow, sir".

After everything was handed out, Murphy made her way up to CP, wanting to inform Winters of their findings. And of course, she mentioned Hinkle. Winters was happy to see her, he gave her a light kiss on the lips, it was like kissing ice.

"Hinkle?"

Murphy smiled, "yeah…pretty funny, right?"

"Find anything else?"

"Nothing, aid station is as good as empty". She said, "doctors are gone, Germans took almost everything. And I don't expect we'll be getting a supply drop until the fogs cleared, right?"

Winters sighed, "it's looking that way, Murphy".

Biting her lip, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Are you keeping well?"

Smiling, he nodded. "Are you?"

"Yeah, we're fine".

And things were fine, they had a quiet two days.

They did undergo some artillery fire and machine-guns that day but nothing they didn't know how to handle. Besides, Murphy wasn't around for that, she had been with Heffron and Ralph, gathering supplies in Bastogne.

However, the next day, it turned a little sour.

It snowed.

Soft, dry and thick snow, lying perfectly on the ground.

It reached to twelve inches by around nine that morning. And the temperatures went below freezing. They were colder than they had ever been in their life. They started using the things Murphy, Heffron and Ralph brought back from town. The burlap proved to be their biggest error. They wrapped the burlap around their feet, which soaked up the snow, boots became soggy, feet got wet, the cold penetrated right into the bone. Which would soon cause trench foot. From the cold and moisture, the foot would become so tender, skin could have peeled right off. And of course, if that happened to your foot, you were off the line.

And on that day, the shelling's started.

They fired back, of course, but by God, you couldn't stop a shelling.

Murphy dove into a foxhole, Carson was screaming out in pain.

She quickly crawled over to him, his foot and thigh had sharp pieces of wood from a tree above his foxhole, penetrating into his skin. "Damn, Gordy". She mumbled, before looking back over the foxhole and waving over Jackson. He soon came running over.

"Get me a medic and an A-jeep!"

Nodding, Jackson quickly scurried off.

Murphy didn't touch his leg or foot, she held his hand instead.

When Gene arrived, Murphy headed back to her guys and got them into position.

The Germans were shooting at them with their machine-guns.

One guy was screaming for a medic, then his mother.

That was always the worst one to hear.

But Murphy got her lads focused, though the Germans were hammering them with rounds from their machine-gun, the field was soon littered with dead Germans, a part of their attempt to break into their line and reach Antwerp.

She gave their shoulders a clap, "good job".

"Thanks, Sarge".

That night, Murphy made the eerie walk to outpost. Like last time, they switched every two hours but getting to outpost was a mission in itself. You went out there by yourself, you didn't know if you'd even get there alive. Germans would sneak up on some guys, capture them. You heard all sorts of stories, rumours were a dangerous thing out in combat. However, Murphy made it to the outpost, relieved McClung and got into the small hole in the ground. Looking across the field, she saw nothing but fog and snow.

Brilliant.

There came a tiny squeak from beside her and a voice after.

"Switched?"

It was the field telephone.

Murphy picked up the receiver, "yup, I'm here".

"Good. See anything, let me know". Guarnere said, "even if it's quiet, I don't care".

Her lips twitched at that, "get lost, Bill".

The Germans had the high ground, there were hills all around. They were on a slight hill, but the enemy were higher because a lot of them were positioned in houses and a church. Three hundred odd feet away, was Foy, where the Germans were stationed. Murphy could just make out the town, if she looked through her binoculars and really looked. This fog, if the fog was gone, she'd see better.

Forty feet behind her, was another outpost, then another behind that one and then back into the woods, were the guys who were trying to get some sleep. But it was still so quiet and still out on your own, in the very front.

There came the squeak again.

"Quiet?"

Still holding her binoculars with one hand, she picked up the phone. "Yes".

"You never told me".

"Are you taking the piss, Bill?"

"Hey – speaking of". He said, "it burns when I pee".

Murphy sighed, "yeah? Maybe you're living up to your name, Gonorrhea".

Guarnere laughed at that, "you ass".

Putting down the binoculars, Murphy picked up her rifle.

"You've got two hours of my annoying voice, Murph".

She slowly shook her head, "aren't I lucky?"

"Four leaf-clover lucky?"

Murphy huffed, "you're such an arse, Bill".

"At least I ain't Irish, huh?"

"Yeah, well-"

Her sentence was cut short, because she could see something move.

Leaning forward, Murphy looked through the binoculars.

It was a German, who looked a little lost.

Damn, this line was so thin.

"Got one". She told Guarnere over the phone, "looks lost".

"Grab him, Murph". He told her, "bring him back here".

"Okay".

Picking up her rifle, Murphy slowly crept out from the outpost.

The German was forty yards in front of her, she moved to the side, using a few bushes as cover. He looked scared, while he was probably trying to find his unit. When she neared the German, almost five feet from him, he eventually took notice and raised his hands.

Murphy closed the distance between them and started searching him.

She packed away his ammo, gun, rations and aid kit.

"Right, let's go".

Grabbing his shoulder, Murphy moved him back towards their camp.

Guarnere was waiting for her, outside his foxhole.

"Checked him?"

She nodded, "got his supplies".

"Good job". Guarnere said, "head back to OP, still got a good hour and forty minutes left".

The next morning, she gave the aid kit to the medics, shared out the rations and gave the gun and ammo to Buck and Guarnere, who'd keep it as an emergency.

It seemed it didn't take long for the Germans to realise that they had the town surrounded. So, they started to hit their defensive perimeter from all sides. They pushed them so far into allied lines, they created a bulge in the line. So, they had a foot of snow, high winds and they were freezing. They had started running out of food and the Germans had the entire 101st surrounded. It happened so quickly, at the blink of an eye. The generals didn't even know but they did because they saw the anti-aircraft gun the Germans used, they saw it in all four sides of them. They fired at any allied plane. They were in trouble.

They were dug in a large circle, and that's where they planned to stay.

Hell, or high water, they weren't leaving.

Those Germans didn't know who they were dealing with.

…

They started shelling them at night.

No one slept.

They started to lose a lot of guys, replacements mostly.

You'd be so tired, you could fall asleep walking.

It happened once, a guy dropped his rifle.

Murphy bent down to pick it up, he was near snoring.

Sometimes, you'd get so tired, you didn't know what was going on.

No sleep - always stressed.

The Sargent's had to remain that constant support.

Murphy liked having that distracting of looking after others, it stopped her from realising how messed-up she was. And of course, there was Toye, who'd start singing, "I'll be seeing you". God bless that man. However, not all the men could sing. That included Guarnere, though the worst singer by far was Ralph. If he started singing, Heffron would tell him to shut up. Ralph thought he was Mario Lanza.

"Well, I come from his neighbourhood". Ralph pointed out.

"Well, you ain't got his voice!" Heffron would say, "you sing like a South Philly Willy!"

Murphy was smiling sleepily from her foxhole.

Toye was still humming.

She rubbed her eyes, for the hundredth time that day. "Sing it again, Joe".

He cleared his throat;

 _"I'll be seeing you._

 _In all the old familiar places._

 _That this heart of mine embraces._

 _All day and through._

 _In that small cafe._

 _The park across the way"._

Murphy smiled and leaned back against the frozen mud.

 _"The children's carousel._

 _The chestnut tree._

 _The wishing well"._

"Didn't that other 'gal sing it?" Popeye asked quietly.

"Billie Holiday?" Toye stopped singing, "yeah, I heard her. She's got some voice".

"I like her". Murphy said softly, "she's got a really nice voice".

"Better than mine?"

"Joe, you sound like an angel out here".

It was true, Toye sounded one hundred times better out in the woods because they didn't have a radio. And they still weren't telling Heffron he could sing. Guarnere was convinced it would go to his head. Murphy wished Malarkey would sing for them, not only was he good but he knew so much about music.

"Hey, Murph?" Heffron asked, "you should sing us an Irish song".

"I can't bloody sing, Babe". Murphy waved him off.

"You'd sound like an angel". He remarked with a grin.

Sighing, she nodded. "Right, fine, don't laugh too hard".

 _"Oh, Paddy dear, did 'ye hear the news that's 'goin round?_

 _The Shamrock is by law forbid to grow on Irish ground._

 _Saint Patrick's Day no we'll keep, his colours can't be seen._

 _For they're hanging men and women for the wearing of the green"._

"Jesus Christ, Murph". Guarnere muttered, "what the fuck is this song?"

Murphy shrugged, "da used to sing it".

Heffron grinned, "keep going, Murph".

She cleared her throat.

 _"I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand._

 _He said, how's dear old Ireland, and how does she stand?_

 _She's the most distressful country that you have ever seen._

 _For they're hanging men and women for the wearing for the green._

 _For the wearing of the green._

 _For the wearing of the green._

They're hanging men and women for-"

"the wearing of the green, we get it". Toye was laughing a little.

Murphy gave him a tiny glare, "look, it get's better, alright?"

"Yeah, quit interrupting her, Joe". Liebgott said, "that's rude".

She continued once again.

 _"And since the colour we must wear is England's cruel red._

 _Sure Ireland's sons will ne'er forget the blood that they had shed._

 _You may take the Shamrock from your hat, and case it on the sod._

 _But 'twill take root and flourish there no underfoot tis trod._

 _My father loved his country and sleeps within its breast._

 _While I that would have died for her must never soul be blessed._

 _Most tears my mother shed for me, how bitter they'd have been._

 _If I have proved a traitor to the wearing of the green._

 _For the wearing of the green-"_

The rest soon joined in.

 _"For the wearing of the green._

 _They're hanging men and women for the wearing of the green!"_

There was a tiny cheer.

"You're not too bad". Guarnere said, "out here, you could have made some cash".

Murphy chuckled, "ah – thank you, Bill".

There was no singing during a shelling.

The Germans would come at them from the side with their tanks, because they couldn't get past the trees. So, they drove the tanks to the edge of the trees and fired 88's, then they'd back off and come back with more. The shells would hit the trees, they'd explode and shoot shrapnel everywhere, lots of guys got hit from one shell. They called them treebursts.

It was loud, like any other shelling.

When it stopped, they'd fire back at them.

Because they'd come up with machine-guns occasionally.

But if they didn't, you'd be in your foxhole, head down and waiting.

There only job was to push them back, hold the line and stay alive.

One day, things would get better. But right now, that day was way into the future.


	30. Chapter 30

Sickness, tench foot and frostbite.

If you weren't getting evacuated from a shell or bullet.

You were being evacuated from those three things.

The worst case of frostbite Murphy witness was from a replacement.

He took off his boot, fell asleep and woke up with a black toe.

Worst of all, it snapped off.

Murphy would never forget the look of shock on his face.

"I didn't even feel it". He whispered, while holding his toe up.

Heffron started to develop a cough. Came straight from his lungs, the worst of it.

He was coughing all night, all day, didn't get a break. And there was nothing for it.

Heffron just had to power through, though, the medics did raise concern for him.

This was Murphy's worst nightmare, she was sure of it. It reminded her so much of life back in Ireland, with her baby brothers and sisters. Dying in their sleep from being too cold and suffering from illness. Murphy stayed close to Heffron, rubbing his back, offering him what little water they had left. Heffron was always touched by her concern, though maybe sometimes a little annoyed.

"You're always hovering over me, Murph". He said, "I'm fine".

"Babe, you're-"

"sick, I know".

He coughed again, she rubbed his back.

Heffron cleared his throat, "I'll be okay".

And if it wasn't Heffron giving her worries, it was Toye, who lost his boots during their last shelling. They came flying off, nowhere to be seen. He had wrapped his feet in burlap. Though, that was only causing him more problems. Toye was beginning to show early signs of trench foot.

Hughes and Jackson were doing okay, Murphy kept them busy.

They went into Bastogne a few times, collected water from a frozen stream, did plenty of patrols and outpost duties. Murphy wouldn't let them sit for long, unless they needed a few hours of sleep. But then again, no one slept at all.

If there was ever a patrol, Guarnere was sure to ask her first.

"Think you could check out this part of the line here? Big gap".

"Yup".

That's how it usually went.

And soon enough, the three of them were off.

For that day's patrol, they were headed south of the line, passing CP.

From there, they walked almost two-miles down the line.

Still in the wooded area, Murphy soon spotted a gate.

Holding up her hand, she halted her boys and they got down.

A gate. That was strange.

Had it been a long time since she encountered a gate?

Murphy didn't know. But there was a gate, a fence attached to it. A barbed wired fence.

Rubbing her lips together, she carefully approached the gate.

When she got near it, one single shot fired out.

Murphy turned to the side, pressing up against a tree.

She looked over at Jackson, pointing towards her eyes, then at the gate.

Staring intently at the gate, he shook his head after a few moments.

He couldn't see where the shot had come from.

Biting down on her lip, Murphy leaned forwards, ever so slightly. But a shot was fired out again, hitting the snow by her boots. Sighing, she leaned back against the tree. They couldn't have been pinned down, there was only one guy shooting at them, from the sounds of it anyway.

What the hell was on the other side of that gate?

Getting onto her stomach, Murphy brought out a piece of mirror and titled slightly. From there, she could catch sight of a farmhouse, sitting neatly on the left side, ten yards from them. The sniper had a clear line, directly onto that tiny path leading up to the gate.

 _ **Ping!**_

The bullet crashed into her mirror.

Murphy re-took her cover again.

He had a good shot, just like Shifty Powers. They were screwed.

"Hughes, take the left side. Farmhouse, top window. Get him".

Hughes had a good shot too, Murphy hoped he could get this sniper down.

Getting into position and staying stationed next to a tree, Hughes looked through his rifle.

Murphy took off her helmet, arms stretching out towards the path.

Another shot fired out, pinging against her helmet.

Hughes pulled his trigger, taking one shot.

"You get him?"

"I think so, Sarge".

Biting her lip, Murphy got up a little, nearing the gate.

No shot. Hughes got him.

She smiled a little, "good job, Hughes".

She looked beyond the gate, the farmhouse to their left and an open field.

Murphy stared at the farmhouse, knowing there would be supplies inside.

"Okay, Jack to the left, Hughes to the right. I'll climb over first".

After climbing over the four feet gate, Murphy reached the other side.

She took a few steps forward, feet crunching softly against the thick snow.

There were no footsteps, this land hadn't been stepped on today, or perhaps ever.

Hughes and Jackson climbed over next, getting into position.

Murphy continued to move forward, keeping them as close to the tree-line as possible.

She got down on her knees, Jackson and Hughes followed.

They were pretty close to the farmhouse now, though the trees gave them cover.

It looked quiet enough.

Murphy figured they could just sneak in.

However, safety came first.

Picking up an empty shell, which was buried under the snow, she tossed it far off in front of the house. The three of them grimaced, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did happen after a few moments, Murphy gave a nod and they advanced forward.

Now at the side of the house, which was more like a huge shed.

The wood was chipping away, white paint now turning into black damp.

Murphy looked through one of the windows and didn't see anything.

Quietly, she pushed open the side door and stepped into a kitchen.

A small sink, a stove and a table with no chairs.

There was a tiny hall outside of the kitchen, leading into another room.

"Upstairs, you two – go".

Hughes and Jackson walked up the stairs, which was more like a ladder, in the kitchen.

Murphy made her way into the hall, crossed the landing and entered the living room.

She expected supplies, perhaps more Germans but not this.

"H-hey".

Murphy got down on her knees, "Jesus".

Two Americans. From their division.

"Company?" She asked them quietly.

"Baker".

Murphy's face fell, "we're from Easy". She said, "how long have you been captured?"

He slowly shook his head, "the night we arrived".

God, they were in a terrible condition.

The guy who wasn't talking, was lying down, face and body badly beaten.

They were both in nothing but their shirts and underwear.

Murphy was surprised they hadn't froze to death.

"They're coming!" Jackson called from upstairs, "we've got eight!"

Rubbing her lips together, she turned back to the two guys from Baker. "Stay here, don't move. We'll get rid of them".

Getting up the stairs, she positioned her rifle out of the window.

"Two grenades – blast them, go!"

Moving to the side, Hughes and Jackson tossed out a grenade each.

The Germans were walking tightly together, so they blasted them all.

Though, only a couple had been badly enough wounded.

"Okay, fire – go!"

Jackson managed to create a hole in the wall, so he could fire out, while Hughes used the other window. Together, the three of them started to fire out, shooting down eight Germans. The Germans hammered back at them, they were constantly re-taking cover to avoid bullets. And when one of them entered the house, Murphy quickly ran back down the stairs.

"Halt!" She demanded.

The German didn't, he turned to face her.

Murphy shot him, bullet going into his shoulder.

He shot out too, the bullet cut into her flesh, on her arm.

Murphy almost dropped her rifle, though pulled the trigger again, before the rifle fell from her hands. Hissing, she pressed her hand up against the wound. The bullet had caught her skin, not going in, it was a flesh wound.

"Sarge! More are coming!"

"Let's get out of here, come and help me!"

To ease the pressure off her arm, she brought out some burlap and wrapped it around her wound. Jackson and Hughes placed a guy each over their shoulder. Murphy, staying at the back, got them out of the side door again.

Soon, the Germans started to fire out an MG42, piercing holes into the house.

And just as they were ten feet from the house, it blew up.

 **Boom!**

A mortar slammed right into it.

Wood was flying everywhere, chips hitting the back of their legs and arms.

Murphy turned around every few seconds, firing back at them.

But soon, they were far enough away from them.

"Where're they from, Sarge?" Hughes asked.

"Baker Company".

"Holy shit". Jackson whispered.

One mile into their journey back, Murphy stopped the squad.

They put the two guys from Baker down, Jackson and Hughes needed a minute.

Murphy knelt in front of them, giving them some water from her canteen.

The other guy was barely awake, she had to open his mouth and rub his throat, encouraging him to swallowing the water. Their lips were chapped, bad frostbite on their noses, feet and the tips of their fingers. It was going to be a long road for these two. Murphy learned that one of them was a replacement, the other had been around since Toccoa. He was a Sargent; the replacement was in his squad.

"Think he'll be okay, Sarge?" Jackson asked the Baker Sargent.

"I'm sure of it". He croaked, "Flynn? We have to keep moving".

Nodding, she got back up. "Alright lads, get them up".

"I can walk".

Murphy shook her head, "not on those feet, you can't".

They reached their line, guys came over to help.

Buck and Guarnere took the two guys from Baker up to CP.

Murphy and her boys followed after them.

Quickly, a medic was called over and Nixon rang for a jeep to get them back to town.

They were both sat down, blankets wrapped around them.

The replacement had opened his eyes, letting out a tear-less sob.

"It's okay, son". Winters gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "you're going back home".

The replacement buried his face into Winters chest.

The Captain placed his hand on the back of his neck, "take it easy, you're okay".

Murphy was sitting next to the Sargent.

"Thank you, Flynn".

She shook her head, "thank Bill and Lieutenant Compton". She said, "they gave us the order to go there, Sargent. Wouldn't have found you otherwise".

Gene was looking over the Sargent's wounds on his face.

There wasn't much he could do for him, most of the damage was frostbite.

However, Gene soon noticed the burlap wrapped around Murphy's arm.

"Flynn, what's this?" He asked, quickly ripping the burlap off. "You got shot".

"It's nothing". Murphy mumbled, "bullet grazed me".

Reaching into his aid kit, Gene brought out a bandage.

It really wasn't anything, not compared to most.

Not compared to these two guys from Baker, who had been through hell.

That caught Winters attention.

"You got shot?" He asked, with a deep frown.

Murphy shook her head, "barely. Not as bad as yours, I'm fine".

After that ordeal, guys decided to move up in twos or threes.

Whether it was going to the mess tent, using the bathroom – anything.

They moved up in threes or twos, fearing they'd get captured next.

Even Murphy had told Hughes and Jackson to do the same.

…

Things were starting to get worse in the woods.

Murphy saw a lot of guys cry. They were the kids, the replacements who came in after Holland, the ones who had no combat experience at all. Tears would freeze but they continued to sob into their hands, wishing they were back home, with their family and friends. It did tear at your heart a little, no one was heartless, but you couldn't let it continue. If you saw a guy cry, you'd give them a tiny slap across the arm and give them a job and if they didn't break out of it, you sent them to CP, where Winters would take them off the line as his runner for a few days. Winters was good like that, he was good with the replacements and handling combat exhaustion.

And then there was a second Lieutenant, who blew his own hand off. He just wanted off the line, and one way to go about it was shooting yourself. Hand or foot was the popular choice. But coming from an officer, a leader – he was supposed to be leading them. Sargent's and officers, they were in no position to break. But the guys who weren't leading, the replacements and Privates, they could break, and they'd be there to snap them out of it.

Murphy tried to keep everyone's spirits up.

Her first priority was her squad. Hughes and Jackson were tough, when they weren't following Murphy around on patrols, or chipping away at their foxholes, they were with the replacements and making sure they were okay. Sometimes, helping others, is the only thing that could have made you feel better out there. Doing something good, it made you feel better. And Murphy didn't have to tell her boys that, they figured it out for themselves.

She was lucky to have them.

They faced a lot of problems regarding Dike, Murphy never saw the guy.

But Lipton was always around, running back and forth between Platoons, checking in on everyone. That man was always busy, but he made time for each guy. It was like time slowed down with him on the run, that guy could do multiple things at once.

2nd Platoon were lucky in the sense that they had Guarnere and Buck.

1st were lucky to have Martin and Bull and the other NCO's but God help them, they had Lieutenant Peacock.

And Christ, 3rd had Lieutenant Shames, the guy who yelled.

Murphy figured 2nd had the best Platoon leader. By far. And Guarnere was his right-hand guy. They shared a foxhole, it was the Platoon's CP. They took care of everything. They had phones to the outposts, they'd take turns in sleeping while the other guarded the phone. It was a good system. And if anything happened to Buck, Guarnere would be left in charge, they were all comfortable with that.

On the 21st of December, Murphy was sitting on the edge of her foxhole, carefully cleaning her rifle. It was a task she often did when Guarnere and Buck had no patrols for her squad. And while she did that, she'd send Jackson and Hughes to fill up the jerry cans with water. Which was what they were doing on that cold, snowy and icy morning.

Murphy didn't know how her fingers were still attached to her hands.

Like most, their gloves didn't cover their fingers. The guys up top thought gloves which covered fingers were useless, how else could they handle a weapon? Murphy thought the guys up top were a bunch of idiots, who probably were snugged up nicely in a warm house, making these stupid decisions. The guys up top being the head of the American Army. No one liked the army while they were in the woods, everyone hated them.

She tended not to over analyse things. That would just cause burning holes in her head. Murphy didn't have time to be sitting and thinking about things she had no control over. Which is why she decided not to panic about the sickness sweeping down the line. She decided to clean her weapons, chip away at her foxhole and on the odd occasion, watch Winters take a French wash, where he'd strip off his jacket and shirt and give himself a wash. That, or she'd watch him shave every morning. It was the little things.

And it made her laugh, because the guys couldn't believe how nuts their Captain was.

"Yes, but does it make you feel less frightened?"

One of the replacements said, "it's weird, like it's all normal for a bit".

That was his intentions. Murphy walked over to him one morning, while he was shaving. And asked him why he did it.

"To get their attention and to let them know its not as bad as they think".

No one else shaved, Nixon didn't, the guys were calling him "Black beard".

But Murphy loved Winters more for doing this.

Once her rifle was cleaned, she put it back together again, quickly and carefully.

"Murph".

Guarnere and Buck soon walked over to her.

Murphy looked up from her rifle, "hey, guys". She greeted lightly.

A smile broke from their faces.

Trust Murphy to sound as chipper as ever.

She put her rifle to the side, "what's happening?"

Buck cleared his throat, "1st Platoon are doing a combat patrol this afternoon, Battalion needs to know where the Krauts line, outposts or whatever are. They want them to acquire information and possibly bring back a prisoner or two".

Murphy nodded, "Martin leading?"

Guarnere shook his head, "Mr fucking indecision himself".

She raised an eyebrow, "Peacock…well, that won't be good".

"Exactly". He said, "how about you and Babe head over and give them a hand?"

"Sure". Murphy said, "I'll head down there now and see what's what".

"I'll send Babe down later". Buck told her, "patrol is set for 1300 hours".

And that was that.

Murphy took the short walk towards 1st Platoon's line of resistance.

Most of the guys looked pissed-off.

She tried not to wonder too much about it. Making her way further down, Murphy reached Platoon CP and found Martin and Peacock going over a map. She sat on the edge of their foxhole, putting her rifle aside.

"Lieutenant Peacock, sir".

"Ah – Sargent Flynn". He greeted, looking up from the map. "I trust Sargent Guarnere has briefed you?"

Murphy nodded, "yes, sir. Combat patrol. What's the plan of attack?"

Martin cleared his throat, giving her a tiny knowing look.

She frowned a little.

"We'll know more when we reach the woods". Peacock responded.

Oh, was this man serious?

"Right, sir". Murphy mumbled softly. "I'll eh – I'll find a squad to join up with".

After giving Martin a confused and worrying look, Murphy grabbed her rifle and walked away from the foxhole. Jesus, Peacock was insane. He was not someone she could trust to think from the top of his head. What the hell were they getting themselves into?

"What the hell are we getting ourselves into?" She asked Christenson quietly.

"Murph, the hell if I know". He whispered back to her, "that son of a bitch".

"I know". Murphy sighed softly, "it's just me and Babe coming along, Bill wanted us to be nosey".

He almost laughed at that, "fucking Wild Bill".

"So, - eh – which squad?"

"Oh, I'd go with Bull". He said, "Babe can stick with me".

Murphy nodded, "sure thing, pal".

While on her way to Bull's squad, she saw Julian.

Julian was Heffron's good friend, they went through jump school together before both being assigned to Easy in England. Julian had a deep Southern accent, from Alabama. Julian was a good guy, ages with them, maybe slightly younger. He was very religious, like the majority of Easy but his faith went beyond. She had to admire the guys who still prayed to God, Murphy couldn't do it. It wasn't that she didn't believe, hell – Murphy didn't know what to believe. The only thing she believed in was Easy out here.

"Hey, John".

Julian looked up and smiled, "Sarge, not seen you for a while".

Murphy smiled and sat on the edge of his foxhole, "you haven't seen me ever".

He chuckled quietly, "where's Babe?"

"He'll be down shortly".

"Oh, I'm glad he's coming". Julian said, "Sargent Guarnere been keeping him busy?"

"You bet, John". Murphy then asked, "seen Bull?"

"Couple of holes to your left, Sarge".

"Ah – thank you, John".

Murphy got back up again.

She remembered something Heffron told her.

Back when he was training, himself, J.D, Julian and a few others made a packed. That if someone got hit, then one of them would send their things back to their mother's. It was a good idea but not always possible. Some guys just blew-up, disappearing into the sky, limbs and personal belongings flying all over the place. She had seen a few guys searching everywhere for dog tags, letters and the likes but turning up empty handed. And Murphy had hoped she could do the same, if anyone…not that she thought about that too much.

God, she couldn't.

It would drive her mad.

"Murph".

Murphy sat down next to Bull, "can I join you and your boys?"

He nodded, cigar hanging out from the corner of his mouth. "Yup".

"How's Hashey and Garcia?"

"Both fine". He said, "your boys? Heard you found yourself a couple of guys from Baker".

"We did, yeah". Murphy said, "got shot too".

Bull grinned, "yeah? Welcome to the club, boy".

She chuckled lightly, "think I'll get a Purple Heart for it?"

"Who knows". He said, "could be your lucky day".

"It's a piss-poor excuse for a wound, Bull". She said with a smirk, "I reckon that house did a better job".

Murphy rubbed the back of her neck, looking towards the other guys from 1st.

Most of them had beards now, expect the replacements. Who were only kids, really.

She didn't even recognise Hoobler.

"You look like a man, Hoob".

He grinned, "what? I wasn't before?"

Murphy huffed, "well, you look more like one – nice beard".

She needed to visit these guys more often.

"Murph?" Hoobler asked. "What's the deal with Dike?"

She frowned a little, "what'd you mean, pal?"

He sighed, lowering his voice. "Uh – you and Winters…you ever talk about it?"

Murphy cleared her throat, shaking her head.

Hoobler's eyes shifted, "think you could?"

"Hoob". She sighed, "look – it's not something he can do much about, you know?"

"Right". He mumbled, "alright, sorry, Murph".

"No – don't be sorry". Murphy said, with a tiny smile. "We're all pissed-off".

Hoobler was the first guy to ask her that.

And she was sure more was to follow.

At twelve that day, they moved back a few metres from the line.

Father Maloney was giving them a general absolution.

The guys knelt in front of him, heads bowed.

Murphy leaned against a tree, watching.

Her mind was thinking of the patrol ahead.

And it must have been serious, Father Maloney came down.

When the prayer ended, they all got up.

At 1300 hours, Peacock told everyone to "move out!"

And they still had no tactical movement.

The Platoon, along with Heffron and Murphy, moved to the extreme right flank of the Battalion, along the railroad track. They moved through Dog Company's position and began moving towards the Germans, the tracks to the right, woods to the left. They moved slowly, in a column, like they'd usually do.

Peacock halted the patrol, two hundred or so metres away from the line of resistance, he gave out orders for the NCO's, each squad would form a column of twos, alongside one another, with two scouts on point and proceed into the woods until they made contact.

Once they plunged into the woods, they lost contact. The columns lost touch with each other, and some squads lost touch with their scouts. Murphy ended up with Martin and Julian, she had lost sight of Bull and the rest. The fog was thick, the snow fell down fast and soft. Their feet didn't crunch, it was like walking on pillows. Julian was a scout, so Martin and Murphy took cover behind a stack of logs, while Julian advanced forward.

All was quiet.

Until one single shot from a German machine-gun fired out.

It hit Julian, getting him on the neck. And he fell right down.

"Shit!" Martin cursed loudly.

But not loud enough. The MG42 was zipping right at them, flying over Julian, who was squirming on the ground, grabbing his neck. The bullets knocked against the logs, fired into the snow on the ground, which flicked up, hitting their faces.

Murphy and Martin started to fire out.

But it felt like an impossible task.

"Bull! Christenson!" Martin yelled, "up on line!"

God, they were all over the place.

Murphy poked around the logs every now and then, firing out towards the Germans.

They were almost impossible to see; the fog was so thick, and they had good cover.

Because most of the squads were spread out, it took a few minutes for Bull to reach them with the others. And amongst those, was Heffron. For a moment, Murphy leaned back against the logs, sort of wishing he wasn't here. She didn't want Heffron seeing his friend, who was dying on the railroad, holding his throat, while blood poured out of him.

"We've got a man down!"

"What have we got?!" Bull asked.

"Kids down, Julian!"

"We've 'gotta make a move!"

"I can get to him, Sarge!" Heffron said.

Murphy was worried, she didn't want him getting hurt too.

"Suppressing fire!" Martin yelled.

Heffron got onto his belly, making a tiny move towards Julian.

"Covering fire!" Martin yelled, who was watching Heffron closely.

Murphy knelt back up, beginning to fire back out.

Christenson had set up his machine-gunners.

But it wasn't even making a dent!

All you could see from the line, were short bursts of light, no Germans, just their guns. And every time Heffron moved a fraction towards his friend, the Germans would fire right at him.

"Okay, stay there, don't move!" Heffron told Julian. "Stop moving or they'll keep shooting!"

It was the three of them, Murphy, Martin and Bull, trying to give Heffron the best covering fire they could muster, and they felt terrible because it wasn't working.

And, you know, while all of this was going on, Peacock pulled-back.

He just left, leaving his men, not telling them anything.

He left them there, to die.

Julian was down, another guy, Private James Welling was wounded. And Peacock left.

Murphy didn't notice, no one did because they were busy fighting and trying to get to Julian.

"Don't move!"

And Heffron's heart was breaking.

"Stop moving! They'll keep firing! Stop moving!"

The raw emotions coming from his voice, cut them up.

"Jesus Christ, fuck!" Heffron looked over at Martin, "John, what-"

"pull back, we 'gotta pull back!" Christenson called over to them.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, carefully crawling towards Heffron.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Bull said to Martin.

"Let's go! Let's go!"

Martin was ordering everyone, because Peacock wasn't around.

 _That son of a bitch._

Murphy had her hand on Heffron's arm, willing to drag this guy back if need be.

"Stay with us! Stay with us!" Heffron screamed over at Julian, "hold on, Julian! Stay with us!"

She flinched, when a bullet skidded right past her and Heffron.

"Look at me, stay with us! Look at me! Hold on!"

Julian was looking at him, hand reaching out for his friend.

The worst decision in the world, was the ones which broke you apart.

Heffron couldn't save his friend.

Julian was going to die.

And it didn't matter how hard they tried, they had no choice but to fall-back.

"Don't move!" Heffron screamed, "we're coming back for you!"

And once everyone was away, Murphy and Heffron ran back with Martin.

They ran for God knows how long and regrouped in a cluster of trees.

Peacock still wasn't around.

And out of that cluster of trees, came Captain Nixon.

"Martin?!"

"Sir!"

Murphy was with Heffron, who was breathing heavily beside her.

"What's going on?!" Nixon asked.

"They got Julian!"

"He's still alive!" Heffron argued.

"We don't know that!"

"We 'gotta get him, sir!"

Nixon shook his head, "did you hit their OP or their line?!"

"Their line, sir!" Martin replied.

Some of them were still firing out, Murphy was mainly focused of Heffron.

She still had a tight hold of his arm.

"We 'gotta go back to get Julian out of there!" Heffron said.

"No, fall back!" Nixon told him.

Murphy sighed, "where's Peacock?!"

"He's back at CP!" Someone yelled, might have been Luz.

"He left us?!" Christenson yelled.

"Yup". Murphy mumbled, more to herself.

What a fucking disaster.


	31. Chapter 31

The mood was horrible.

From that patrol, they had uncovered German lines and realised the enemy OP's were thinly manned and stretched out, but they had lost Julian, one was wounded, and they failed to bring back a prisoner. Martin had everyone gathered around for a debrief, the guys from 2nd and 3rd came down, wanting to check up on everyone. Murphy was sitting beside Heffron, hand on his back, while he stared off into space. Heffron wanted to get Julian's class ring, wristwatch and his wallet, to send back to Julian's family.

No one could look each other in the eye.

Was it shame?

Murphy didn't know but when Winters joined them, she stared at her hands.

"We couldn't get to him, Captain". She heard Martin tell him, "we tried, Babe tried". He gave a nod towards Heffron, "we couldn't get to him".

Soon, Winters was sitting between Bull and Murphy.

She gave Heffron's back a rub, when he started coughing.

Winters took her hand.

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy gave it a squeeze.

She figured she'd talk to him later.

For right now, everyone was shivering.

God, shivering was just as normal as breathing.

But it felt extra cold that afternoon.

And without any warm food, there was no comfort. By the time those white navy beans reached your foxhole, they were cold. Their cook, Joe Domingus tried hard to expand meals. He found shortening and cornmeal, turned them into fritters. Also cold by the time it arrived. And for pudding, it was a lemon packet from their rations, mixed in with snow – a lemon snow cone. Very creative. And coffee was a treat, if someone had their Sterno's lit, coffee and tea was going. Sterno's was a little can about two or three inches deep, take off the cap and light a match into it and it created a little blue flame. So, you put snow in there, melted it and made coffee, tea, some guys melted chocolate if they had any. Most of the time, they would drink the fluid from the Sterno, it had alcohol in it, so, they'd take a swig.

That was life on the line.

But no amount of coffee or Sterno could make this right.

When it started to get dark, the guys retreated to their foxholes or OP.

Heffron left quickly, Murphy's shoulders dropped.

God, now she was starting to feel it.

The cold, the death – everything.

Since day one, she had managed to keep a smile on her face.

Made the guys laugh, sing Irish songs.

But that part of her, was slipping. She could feel it. It felt like a hole in her chest.

She felt bad – terrible. For both Julian and Heffron.

God, Heffron. That must have been one of the worst things to see.

And nothing anyone could say, could make it right.

Winters, giving her hand a squeeze, pulled her up.

Murphy followed him back to CP, not knowing what to say.

He pushed her gently into his foxhole, where she sat down.

Getting in beside her, Winters brought out a can of Sterno, placing it into the ground.

Murphy wrapped her arms around her legs, bringing her knees up to her chin. She watched the little blue flame, while he pilled in snow, it melted quickly, creating water. Winters was making them coffee, it took her a few moments to realise this. Murphy had never had coffee out in the woods yet, she had been offered a cup, usually after checking her squad but for some reason, she always refused. And here's why.

When you're out on the line, you're cold and you're freezing, every second of the day and night. Murphy always thought that if she was given a tiny amount of comfort, it would shatter this mentally she had built up inside her head since they arrived. She tended to stay away from chocolate, extra blankets, things that would probably make her time here more bearable. Lots of guys did this, some of them had no choice because their squads always came first, those replacements they looked out for, day in and day out. And Murphy was worried that those small comforts, would make her weak. She just didn't realise she was doing this at the time.

So, when Winters placed a warm tin of coffee in her frozen hands, Murphy could have thrown it right over that foxhole, as if it was a grenade. It was the first time her hands had experienced something warm. She looked down at the dark and hot liquid. While Winters watched her closely, with a tiny amount of concern. Blinking, Murphy handed him the coffee, shaking her head.

"No?" He asked quietly.

"No". Murphy repeated softly.

Everyone dealt with being out here differently.

Murphy's was probably doing more harm to her than good.

"How's your arm?"

Oh, she had almost forgotten about that.

"Yeah, it's fine". Murphy replied, looking at him. "Are you okay?"

Winters nodded, placing his hand on the side of her face. "I miss you".

She closed her eyes, feeling her chest tighten.

She missed him too.

Murphy leaned up, brushing their lips together.

"I love you, Dick Winters".

The coffee fell, when his other hand was on the side of her face.

The kiss went deeper this time, it had been a while.

Winters pulled back, staring at her.

Murphy swallowed, their foreheads pressed together.

"Murphy". He whispered, "I love you".

Swallowing, she sighed softly.

"It's okay if you're tired". Winters said, "it's okay if you're scared. You can tell me".

Murphy pulled back, placing her hands on the back of his neck. "I'm not scared". She said to him softly, "you're right behind us. There's no reason to be scared".

His finger trailed along her jaw line, "you still think about the farm?"

"Of course, love". She whispered, "every-damn-day".

Some of that was true. She hadn't given up yet.

Murphy made her way back to her foxhole.

She couldn't stay long, had to check in on her squad and Heffron.

And she almost reached her hole.

When a couple of guys from Julian's squad rushed over to her.

"3rd Platoon pushed those Krauts back". One of them told her. "We got this from John".

It was his ring.

Murphy took the ring, holding it firmly in her hands.

She gave them a nod, "thanks".

"If Heffron wants to see his – uh – body then, he won't have long".

She doubted he'd want to see that.

"Thanks".

Finding Heffron was a lot harder than she thought.

He wasn't with Jim, wasn't with Buck or Guarnere – not on OP.

Where the hell was he?

A few metres from their part in the line, Murphy heard a cough.

Turning to her left, she could spot that South Philly walk.

Murphy jogged over to him, "Babe". She whispered.

Heffron stopped walking and turned around.

"Where you going?"

"Seeing Ralph". He croaked, "what is it?"

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy took his hand and placed Julian's ring on his palm.

Slightly stunned, Heffron took a tiny step back.

"3rd Platoon pushed them back, John's squad got that ring". She explained to him softly, "guess his mum will get something, right?"

Murphy looked at him, watching his reaction carefully.

Heffron was very quiet, while he cradled the ring gently in his hands.

"Uh – I'll see and thank them later". Heffron eventually said, very quietly.

Murphy nodded, releasing the hold on his arm.

"I need to head back". She said, "I'll let the rest know".

Heffron nodded, placing the ring into his pocket. "Thanks, Murph".

"Yup – see you around, Babe".

Heffron would be fine, Murphy had to convince herself that.

She made it back to their part of the line and sat opposite Guarnere and Buck.

Like usual, they were both up for the time being, manning that phone.

"What's the situation?" Guarnere asked, hands rubbing together.

"You know about Julian?" Murphy asked him quietly.

"We heard, yeah". Buck said, "is Babe okay?"

She nodded, "he's with Ralph – 3rd Platoon pushed the Germans back".

"From that same line?"

"Yeah". Murphy responded, "can I bend an ear?"

Guarnere sighed, "Murph, complaints are no good out here".

She nodded slightly, "yeah, I know – but, just for a minute, alright?"

He made a gesture with his hands, "go on".

She cleared her throat, "Peacock bailed on us".

Buck's eyes hardened, "yeah, we heard".

"He just fucked off to bloody CP, without telling anyone". She muttered, "and he didn't have a clue on how to lead this patrol. There was no tactic, nothing. It was set to fail from the bloody start. But we went along – a jobs a job, right?"

Guarnere nodded quickly, "Christ, Murph. You had to go along with it".

Murphy bit the inside of her cheek, leaning back. "And there was – we couldn't have-"

"that's enough". He said, "you couldn't have done anything".

Sighing, she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Joe got new boots". Guarnere added, on a lighter note.

Murphy's lips twitched at that. "Bet he's over the moon, eh?"

Buck chuckled, "with those boots? He could reach the stars".

"Is he home?" She asked.

"Yeah, go and join him". Buck said to her, "get back to your hole".

"Yeah, alright". Murphy shouldered her rifle and started to climb out of the foxhole. First, she checked up on Hughes and Jackson. They were both awake still, huddled next to each other with a blanket, talking about home with smiles. Murphy crouched in front of them.

"You two thinking about sleep anytime soon?"

They both looked at her.

"Thinking about and doing it are different, Sarge". Hughes remarked, with a cheeky grin.

Murphy smiled back at him, "if you're not asleep by ten, then I'll come back and made you dig up six holes each".

Jackson chuckled quietly, "right, Sarge".

"How's the rations?"

"None". Hughes told her.

Murphy sighed, "we'll head into town tomorrow, see what's what".

"Alright, Sarge".

Reaching into her musette bag, Murphy pulled out a Hershey's bar. "Here, have it. Don't fancy it myself".

"Thanks, Sarge". Jackson smiled, "we'll save you some".

Shaking her head, Murphy got back up. "Don't need it, pal – get some sleep".

"Night, Sarge".

And just like that, Murphy was back to her old self again.

All's it took was a moment with Winters, giving Heffron a bit of good news, a word with Guarnere, Buck and to see her squad smile and laugh. Toye, however, seeing his foot was like a punch to the teeth.

Gene asked to see his foot.

Toye pulled off his sock.

Trench foot.

"If it turns gangrene, you could lose it". Gene told him.

"I ain't coming off the line, doc".

"Well, you 'gotta stay dry. Message your feet. Change your socks every day and dry the wet ones around your neck".

"Trying". Toye responded.

"Do it". Gene told him.

He sighed, "I'm working on it".

"Oh, have you seen Heffron?"

Murphy nodded, "he's with Ralph".

Gene gave her a tiny smile, "thank you, Flynn".

When he left, Murphy sat on the edge of their foxhole.

"Fuck". Toye hissed.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her pair of socks.

"Take mine, you need them more than I do".

Sighing, he looked at her. "Murph, where the fuck would that get us?"

"Well…you wouldn't have trench foot anymore, would you?"

Shaking her head, he carefully pulled his sock over his foot.

Murphy grapped his wrist, "Joe".

Blinking, Toye nodded, she handed him the sock.

Smiling a little, Murphy jumped into their foxhole. "Want something nice for supper? How about a hamburger and mash potatoes?"

"You're _so_ fucking funny, Murph".

She chuckled, "come on, you big lump – get down here, it's bloody freezing".

Taking out a Sterno can, she placed it onto the ground and lit it up.

When that was heating up, Murphy reached into her bag and pulled out a sheet. Using the knife by her ankle, she tore off a thin and long strip, attaching it from one branch to another.

"Right, hand me your wet socks".

Toye snorted, "you made a washing line?"

"I did". Murphy gave him a toothy grin, "time to get creative, Joe".

"You're so fucking full of it".

"I know".

Murphy placed the socks over the line, hanging above the tiny blue flame.

"Your socks stink, by the way".

Toye shoved her gently, "you been checking your feet?"

Murphy shook her head, "not me".

"Murph!" He hissed, "you dummy, you 'gotta check 'em".

She pulled a face, "I don't want to".

"Jesus Christ". Toye said, "for someone smart, you sure are fucking dumb".

Murphy smiled, amused. "You think? I'm Irish!"

"Come on, let's look at them".

She started to untie her laces, "you sounded really 'fecking creepy there".

Toye smirked, "is that what Winters says to you?"

Murphy huffed, "Joe!"

He chuckled, "right – sorry".

As soon as she stared to pull off her boot, Murphy felt pain.

Her face must have shifted, because Toye suddenly looked at her.

"Sore?"

"Little". Murphy pulled off her damp sock and sure enough, her foot was wrinkled up like a prune. It was tender, sore to touch and the skin had large dents and creases on the soles and up by the balls of her foot. Sighing, she started to message her foot.

"If that turns-"

"it's not trench foot". She mumbled, "we're not jumping to that".

Murphy had done a _great_ job in ignoring her feet.

Jesus, she should have taken off her boots sooner.

She felt like the world's biggest idiot.

…

It was going to be a bad day, Murphy just knew it.

For one, Toye had to wake her up, that never happened.

And when she woke up, she had a horrible headache.

Fuck that, she couldn't get sick, not out here. Murphy rubbed her eyes, like most mornings, they were almost glued together from the cold. She sniffed, which was a lot harder than she thought. Her nose was blocked and when she swallowed, Murphy found that her throat felt swollen and sore. Well, at least it was just a cold – in the cold, mind you.

Heffron and Guarnere wanted her to come with them to collect water.

Grabbing a jerry can each, they headed out towards the frozen stream.

"Right, let's break it up – come on".

Taking out their knifes, they started to cut the ice up.

The water was underneath, flowing down and heading to God knows where.

They didn't care, everyone was thirsty.

Murphy, the idiot she was, stepped on top of the stream by accident.

While moving back off it, she slipped, fell forwards and bashed her knee.

It was the type of pain that took your breath away.

"You stupid mick!" Guarnere said, while dragging her off the ice. "The hell are you doing?"

Sighing, Murphy shook her head. "No idea".

"You alright?" Heffron asked her, "is it broken?"

Rubbing her lips together, she stretched out her leg.

It hurt, a lot but it wasn't broken. "No, probably needs some ice".

Guarnere and Heffron laughed at that.

Murphy grimaced and got back onto her feet. Looks like she'll be limping around the line for a few days. Clearing her throat and sniffing, Murphy crouched back down and started to hammer away at the ice again.

A few minutes later, they put one jerry can into the water, filling it up.

"Jesus Christ". Heffron whispered.

Murphy looked up from the stream, following their gaze.

Oh my God…there were brains in the water, bits of brain and blood.

She looked back towards the jerry can. They were going to be drinking this shit.

"Don't say a damn word". Guarnere told them, "just throw the goddamn water in the thing and let's get the hell out of here".

This day was just _great._

When they got back, everyone filled up their canteens.

"Put those Goddamn pills in there so you don't get malaria from the water!" Guarnere was yelling. They had sulfonamides pills, which were used all over the European theatre.

They never mentioned the brains, no one ever said; "don't this water taste funny?"

So, they never said anything, and Murphy drank her water. She was so thirsty, her throat was very sore, and her body was beginning to ache now, which were normal symptoms of a cold, she never told anyone. Besides, they had to head into town again and see about supplies.

It was a very short trip into town.

They collected more sheets but didn't find any food.

Murphy limped the entire time.

And she just felt awful that day, this cold was a killer out here.

When they got back to the line, it was Lipton who told her to sit down.

"Let me see that knee, bud".

Sighing, Murphy rolled up her trouser leg.

It was swollen, red and would be bruised by tomorrow.

The good thing, it wasn't broken, and the cold weather helped with the swellen.

Murphy had been very quiet for the better part of the day.

Her throat was sore, and she didn't feel like talking much.

Lipton looked away from her knee and back at her, "should be fine. No patrols, alright?"

Nodding, Murphy pulled down her trouser, covering her leg once more.

"How's your feet?"

She cleared her throat, "fine".

Lipton raised an eyebrow, "you don't sound good…your throat hurting?"

"It's fine". She replied softly, "just need some water".

Gene had been trying to chase her up all day.

Whenever he got close to her, Murphy ducked and limped the other way. She didn't want him seeing her feet, he'd only tell her what he told Toye. But the medic eventually did catch her, later on in the afternoon, before it got dark.

"Flynn, let me see those feet, come on".

"They're fine". Murphy insisted.

Gene crossed his arms, "then why won't you let me see them, huh?"

Damn. Murphy sat down on a fallen tree and started to remove one of her boots. It hurt, just like it did last night, and once her sock was pulled off, Gene knelt down and looked at it. When his fingers came into contact with her skin, she hissed and tried to yank her foot free.

"It's not that bad". He told her softly, "but you've 'gotta take better care of them".

Murphy bit the inside of her cheek.

Gene got back up, "have you got dry socks?"

She nodded. When Toye's socks dried, she slipped them on, and they were planning on repeating the same process that night. They had found a good system and told others to do the same.

The medic looked at her, with a tiny frown. "Feeling alright?"

Murphy nodded again, "just a cold".

Gene pressed his hand on her forehead, "yeah, I think you're right. How's your throat?"

She shook her head, "it's fine, Gene. Just a cold".

He sighed, "you're all stubborn". He said, though fondly. "You feel any worse, give me a shout, got it?"

"Will do".

…

Grants boys were on OP that night, like most nights.

Murphy got into her foxhole beside Toye, who already had the Sterno ready.

They took off their socks, hung them up and messaged their feet.

Toye had been fixing up their little home, he had given it a roof. With wood, branches and a poncho, to keep it dry. That's what saved their feet, having a dry place to come back to. And having this cover made the place warmer. The wind couldn't get it, or snow. It was perfect. Some others had even dragged dead Germans, they were frozen like bricks. It made a good cover. Toye didn't drag any dead Germans for their cover, not yet.

"What'd doc say about your feet?"

Murphy shrugged, "same as yours".

"Want some coffee?"

"Nah – not me".

Toye filled the can with water from his canteen.

Murphy sniffed, rubbing the tip of her nose. "How's the water?"

"Yeah, good". He responded, "why?"

Smiling a little, she shook her head.

Toye gave her a knowing look, "what the fuck did you three do?"

"Nothing". She said, "that waters good for you…full of protein".

He sighed, looking back down at the Sterno. "I don't even care, Murph".

She chuckled quietly.

Toye smiled, "that's better…ain't heard you laugh today, Murph".

Murphy finished the laugh with a tiny sigh, "it's fine, Joe".

She thought back to Gene for a moment and Ralph.

"We're lucky". She said, "our medics, they go above and beyond for us".

Toye nodded, "they do…doc Roe got me boots".

"Yeah". Murphy mumbled softly, "they don't get enough sleep, too busy running about after us".

"Did he ever find scissors?"

"I think so".

"Perconte had them". Toye told her, "that guy's been hoarding shit since Normandy".

Her lips twitched, "not just watches then?"

He snorted, "nope".

Socks now dry, they slipped them on and put on their boots.

Leaning back, Toye wrapped the blankets around them.

"We've ran out of rations". Murphy said.

"I know". Toye uttered quietly, "no one's eaten all day. Not much ammo either".

She tried to think of anything reassuring but couldn't.

"We're fucked".

Was all she could think of, which didn't really do much for anyone.

Toye shook his head, "that ain't you".

Murphy rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I know".

"Get it together, Murph". He told her, "you 'wanna leave?"

"Of course not, Joe".

"Then get it together". Toye said, "we ain't fucking losing you".

Murphy looked up at him, "I'm not going anywhere, you loony".

Smiling, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into his side, "tomorrow will be better. Cause yesterday was shit, today didn't go well but on the third day, it'll be better".

Toye nodded slowly, "that's right".

Murphy hoped they were right anyway.

The very next morning on the 23rd of December, the skies cleared, and the fog lifted.

They all heard the first P-47s coming in.

All the orange and red panels were set about, so the allies could tell them apart from the Germans. And everyone was cheering, waving at them because it was a supply drop. Finally, they were getting supplies!

However, the planes started to shoot down their panels and everyone took cover.

The panels were destroyed, the guys were screaming; "why are they shooting at us?!"

So, when the next round of planes came, they had no panels, so everyone took cover.

They blasted them, shooting on their line and scarfing the wood.

Everyone was scared as hell. But they must have figured out where the Germans were pretty fast because they had a field day blasting the enemy. The planes had dropped plenty of supplies, food, ammo, med kits, everything came down in a parachute, stored in boxes and bags. The Germans started to hit the planes, which caused them to move left, right, up and down – supplies were dropped all over, some of them even with the Germans.

So, for most of the day, everyone went out looking for supplies.

The rations were handed out to each guy, no one hoarded them.

And even with the supply drop, they still didn't have enough ammo for their rifles or machine-guns. And winter clothes, that was still an issue. Murphy didn't get anything warmer to wear, some guys found gloves, hates and scarves but that was pretty much it.

"It's better than nothing". Murphy told her boys, "you've got a scarf each and gloves. You're going to be fine".

Which was true. Because the sky was clear, it made things feel better.

And thought Murphy was still choked with the cold, it didn't dampen her.

Though, sneezing was getting annoying.

Rubbing her hands together, she sat on the edge of her foxhole. Murphy's knee was pretty bruised, it was an ugly shade of blue and black. She couldn't even look at it. Getting hurt out here, catching a sickness, it played havoc on your mind. But it could have been a whole lot worse and that's what she reminded herself every day.

She had sent Hughes and Jackson out to search for more supplies.

Murphy was only slowing them down with her limp.

So, she made herself useful by splitting up what rifle ammo her boys had found.

Murphy planned on handing each round out to the rest. Her boys had done well.

"I got you a present".

Smiling, she looked up from the ammo. "Mighty kind of you, sir".

Winters sat down next to her, "look, it's a lovely green scarf".

"I'm sure I wrote that in my Christmas letter to Santa".

Chuckling, he wrapped the scarf around her neck, "beautiful".

Smiling softly, she reached up and kissed his cheek. "Want to help me?"

"I'd love too".

Sniffing, Murphy placed the box down. "Let's get this split up".

"How's your cold?"

"Annoying".

Winters smiled, "well, as long as it's not anything more than an annoyance, Sargent Flynn".

Sighing softly, she looked up at him. "Is this all going to be okay?"

He looked back at her. "I think, we're all doing a fantastic job in holding this line".

Her lips twitched, "yeah, me too".


	32. Chapter 32

"It's Christmas Eve".

"No, it's not".

"It is so, you mick!"

Murphy sighed, looking at Guarnere. "Alright…where's the Christmas spirit then?"

Guarnere crossed his arms, "up General Taylor's ass".

She laughed at that.

He grinned, nudging her arm. "Liked that one, huh?"

She nodded, "hm – yeah, good one, Bill".

"You hear about Smokey?"

Murphy shook her head, "no…is he okay?"

Guarnere sighed, "got shot, doc said he's paralysed".

The jerry can she was holding fell out of her hands, water pooled everywhere.

He blinked, "for Christ sake, Murph".

Murphy picked the jerry can back up, "I'll get more".

Apparently at 0830 hours, Gordon brewed himself a cup of coffee. The German forces were about to attempt another attack on their lines. Smokey's squad leader, Sargent Buck Taylor told him to "get on that machine-gun". He started to set his machine-gun up, when a shot from a German rifle hit Smokey on the left shoulder and came out from the right shoulder. The hot coffee spilled on his lap, he couldn't feel a thing.

Smokey wrote all those poems, he was a Toccoa guy from 3rd Platoon.

It was a serious drop in morale.

But no one took it harder than Gene.

Medics were a quiet bunch, never wanting to get too close to the men. They knew your name, they'd run straight to you if you called for them. It didn't matter what was going on, how serious the fire was, those medics would race out to get you.

Out here in the woods, they were missing out on sleep, food, any basic need, just to take care of everyone else. The only way you could make their life that little bit easier, was by taking extra care of yourself. Staying dry, keeping warm, those were next to impossible out there. And during that supply drop on the 23rd, the medics had managed to grab more blankets, they went from foxhole to foxhole, making sure everyone was wrapped up and keeping warm.

Ralph and Gene were Easy's medics.

Heffron got a long well with Ralph because they were both from Philly and Gene probably considered Heffron a friend, more so than any other guy in the Company. Murphy figured they had bonded after Julian got hit. Gene was there for Heffron that night, had been there for Heffron since he started coughing up a lung.

You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours; that was the sort of mentality each man carried with them. Like when Malarkey and Murphy pulled Toye back from the roof, some nights later, Nelson tried to kill her and Toye stepped right in, knocking this guy out for her. Or after Guarnere's brother died, that night Murphy was feeling low, he was there for her. It was a good system to have out of combat. Because out in combat, favours weren't a thing, you just wanted to save your friends life and yours, while they were trying to do the same.

Gene was a Toccoa guy. And he took care of everybody.

He slaved away, fixing up wounds that would need surgery. He saw the most gore and devastation out of everyone else in the Company. So, when that man came back from the aid station later on in the afternoon and he sat by himself, with a vacant stare – they could all sense trouble.

You didn't know what it was like to be a medic, you only saw them pulling guys away from the line, you had no idea what was going through their heads. But one thing was certain for Murphy, she couldn't do what they did.

He just looked so _done._

Murphy crouched in front of him.

Gene didn't even blink or look at her.

Tilting her head to the side, she rubbed her hands together.

It was Christmas Eve. And all the guys had gathered around, forming a line for their white beans and fritter. It was the same meal and by the time the replacements had got their serving, it was cold for the NCO's and frozen for the officers.

"Murph, come on – where are you?"

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy slowly got up.

Gene wasn't going to talk with her.

That was fine, because Heffron was making his way over to them.

Giving him a tiny smile, Murphy made her way towards the line.

"There you are". Toye said, "ready for some cold beans?"

"Oh, you bet I am". Muck said, from the front. "I tell you, I'll miss those Fokker's when this is done".

"Skipper, this ain't a Dutch plane". Malarkey said, "these are beans".

He shrugged, "can't curse on Christmas. Family rule".

Murphy turned her head when she heard a jeep.

Here came Colonel Sink.

"We're all sitting down to a Christmas Eve dinner of turkey and hooch back at Division CP".

Frowning, Murphy held out her mess-hall tin, while Joe scooped up the beans and placed it into her metal tin, a fritter on the top. God, those cooks were a life-saver.

"Damned if I don't like Joe Domingu's rancid-ass beans better". Sink finished off.

A few of the men tried to ignore that comment.

What about their turkey dinner?

"Hello, Easy Company".

"Hello, sir". A few of them mumbled.

Sink had a message to give them all, "men, lady…General McAuliffe wishes us all a Merry Christmas. What's merry about this all, you ask? Just this; we've stopped cold everything that's been thrown at us from the north, east south and west".

Murphy stood between Hughes and Jackson.

"Now, two days ago the German Commander demanded our honourable surrender to save the U.S.A encircled troops from total annihilation. The German Commander received the following reply; to the General Commander, nuts!"

The guys smirked at that.

"We're giving our country and our loved ones at home a worthy Christmas present, and being privileged to take part in this gallant feet of arms, we're truly making ourselves a Merry Christmas". Sink folded the message, "Merry Christmas to you all and God bless you".

"Nuts, sir!" Jackson and Hughes responded, along with many others.

Murphy smiled, while she scooped the rest of her meal into her mouth.

Yeah, Joe's beans might have been rancid. But they sure tasted good. Probably better than General McAliffe's nuts.

"We're doing OP tonight".

Murphy frowned, looking up at Jackson. "It's not your watch tonight".

He shrugged, "we 'wanna give Sargent Grant's boys a rest, Sarge".

Nodding slowly, she rinsed out her mess-tin, "I'll let him know".

Murphy didn't tell them how nice that was. Perhaps she should have. And Grant was very happy about her boys taking over the front OP that night, on Christmas, of all days. Murphy's boys weren't the only ones doing this, Hoobler and Sargent Rader were doing the same for their Platoon.

"Did you speak to my lads?" She asked them.

Hoobler shrugged, "not us, Murph".

Murphy smiled a little, "well, if you did…thank you. They're doing us a huge favour tonight".

"Here". Hoobler then handed her a pack of cigarettes, "Merry Christmas".

"Thank you, Hoob". Murphy said. She didn't smoke but her friends did. Still, because this was a gift, she wouldn't get rid of it. And in exchange, she gave them a Hershey's bar. Gift exchanges, even out in the woods. How strange but wonderful. And how even more so, that they were meant to be returning home for Christmas, because they were sure the war would be over after the Island and Market Garden. But they were hanging tough, not willing to surrender and leave this line of resistance. No one would put down their weapon, not unless they were dead.

At night, a wind picked up, but the sky was clear, and the stars were out.

Murphy was walking back from outpost, after giving her boys an extra blanket.

"You're both making me very proud". She had told them, "we're all very grateful".

While on her walk back, another sound travelled across the wind.

Murphy turned around, facing the field.

The Germans were singing "Silent Night".

It was curious, while their voices travelled across the line. Perhaps slightly magical, in the most disturbing way. Maybe even beautiful, or normal. Like caroller's, knocking on your door, wanting a penny for their singing. And Murphy was standing alone, listening to their voices. They weren't too bad, nothing like Toye or Heffron.

This was just weird.

"Murphy".

She turned around, "hi".

Winters closed the distance between them, "merry Christmas, sweetheart".

Smiling softly, Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck. "Merry Christmas, love". She whispered.

Holding her closer, Winters leaned down, and their lips met.

It warmed her heart, which she was sure was frozen. Murphy deepened the kiss.

God, she had missed him.

Winters placed his hand on the side of her face, pulling back. "I love you".

Murphy met his eyes, "Babe's with Joe tonight…why don't I join you?"

Smiling a little, he nodded. "I'd love that, Murphy Flynn".

Taking his hand, the couple walked down the line.

It was a quiet walk, but things grew still, when they reached a certain foxhole.

Inside was Gene, lying on his own and asleep.

Letting go of her hand, Winters soon crouched in front of their medic.

Murphy crossed her arms, worrying her bottom lip.

Winters watched him for a few moments in silence, before getting back up.

She looked up at him, "what are you thinking, love?"

He took her hand again, "I'm thinking, we could all use a moment of peace".

Murphy looked back towards the sleeping medic, "I wish there were words to help him".

"Sometimes, you don't have to say anything to comfort someone, Murphy".

Letting go of his hand, she wrapped an arm around his waist.

He wrapped his arm around his shoulders, while they watched over the medic for a few minutes of silence. Before they left, Murphy reached into the foxhole and covered him with another blanket, tucking him in nice and tightly.

"Sweet dreams". She whispered.

Winters kissed her cheek, before taking her hand.

The couple moved down the line, reaching CP.

They were met with a potentially alarming sight; in the form of fire.

Welsh and Peacock had created a small fire.

They both stared down at the fire, bemused.

"Harry". Winters whispered, "fires not a good idea".

"Just a couple of minutes". Welsh mumbled.

Eventually, Winters crouched in front of the fire.

"We're in a dell". Welsh said.

Which made Murphy laugh lightly.

"A dell?" Winters asked, "you mean where fairies and gnomes live?"

She watched over the three of them, who were quietly pleased with the fire.

"I swear I could smell a fire". Nixon soon came over, coming up behind Murphy. He stopped when he reached them, "I did smell a fire".

Peacock moved to the side, Nixon crouched beside them.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Well, we're in a dell". Winters said.

"Huh?"

 ** _Swoosh!_**

"Down!"

Soon, the entire night sky lit up in a series of white and red.

The Germans were hammering their line with mortars.

They weren't singing anymore, they were screaming.

Winters managed to push Murphy and Nixon down.

All of them were soon belly or back first in the snow.

And then; "oh! God!"

Welsh got hit, a bit of burning shrapnel cut right into his leg.

Winters, who was closest to him, reached his side in a matter of seconds.

"Medic!" He yelled.

Welsh was squirming on the ground, screaming in agony, while Nixon grabbed a radio, requesting for an A-jeep to 2nd Battalion CP.

"Sir, the fire!" Murphy yelled, grabbing onto Peacock. "We have to get up and put it out!"

The man looked terrified. He was lying on the ground, not moving.

Sighing, Murphy eventually got back onto her feet, which was almost impossible because the earth was shaking once again but it was nothing they weren't used to. She was stomping on this little fire, trying to put it out quickly.

"Stay still, Harry!" Winters was saying, while he ripped open Welsh's trousers to check out the wound.

They kept on getting hit. One mortar after another.

Peacock eventually started to help put the fire out, only because Nixon told him to.

"Doc!" They were yelling.

Where was the medic? Murphy wondered, while stomping and smothering the flames.

Winters had tied something above the wound, to help with the bleeding.

The fire was out, Murphy got back down and was on the other side of Welsh.

The Lieutenant was in horrible pain. His voice was growing hoarse from screaming so much. Murphy took hold of his hand, he squeezed her hand tightly, cracking a few bones. Nixon had the other, while he held him still. Welsh was gripping onto his arm, groaning through his clenched teeth.

Gene had finally turned up.

And he stood there, watching.

Winters looked over at the medic. "Roe?"

And he snapped out of it and got to work.

Taking a hold of his leg, he pressed his hand up against it.

"It's just a scratch, Harry". Nixon said, "you're not getting out of here this easy".

Gene tied a stick around the strap of fabric around Welsh's leg and twisted it. This could stop him from bleeding out so much, because like most wounds, there was a lot of blood loss.

Someone handed him a towel, Gene placed it onto the wound. After giving it a few wipes, he tore open the sulphur and sprinkled it onto the wound. And then, he placed a Kerlix gauze on top of it.

"I've got morphine in my pocket, give it to him". Gene instructed.

Winters reached inside the medic's pocket, "where'd you want it?"

"Opposite thigh".

Once that morphine was injected into Welsh's thigh, it hit him fast.

He relaxed, feeling no pain.

"Elevate his head".

With Welsh's blood on his hand, Gene painted an "M" on the Lieutenant's forehead.

And soon, the A-jeep arrived, and Welsh was carried away.

Murphy looked over at Gene, who was wiping the blood off his hand onto his trousers.

Winters walked over and crouched beside him, "Eugene, get yourself into town, get a hot meal".

Without responding, the medic was back on his feet and heading over to the jeep.

It's worth pointing out that the mortars had stopped because the Germans were focused on something else by that point. They didn't know it yet, they were just glad they weren't getting hit anymore.

Murphy let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead.

That could have gone a lot worse.

She looked back towards the field. It was still once again.

"Peacock, check in on your men". Nixon told the Lieutenant.

"Yes, sir".

Murphy raised her head, watching him quickly scurry off.

And she suddenly got onto her feet.

Shit, her boys were on OP.

"I have to see my lads". Murphy said quietly.

Winters nodded and gave her a soft kiss, "alright, Murphy".

"See you's around".

Murphy ran the entire way, half expecting the worst.

Everyone was okay, though perhaps a little shaken.

And when she reached OP, Hughes and Jackson were fine.

Shoulders dropping in relief, she soon got in next to them.

"It was some show, Sarge". Hughes told her.

Murphy snorted, "I don't doubt that, pal".

They heard plenty of artillery fire, but it was coming from the town.

"They're bombing Bastogne". Jackson whispered.

Murphy nodded slowly, "yeah…they are, Jack".

…

On the 26th, the very next day, some of Patton's third army, from the south, under Lieutenant Colonel Creighton Abrams, they broke the German lines and came through. They were no longer surrounded, and trucks were able to bring up supplies and better yet, get the wounded out of Bastogne and back to England.

Everyone was hoping for relief when they broke though but no, they still had to push the Germans back, and the battles got worse not better. Their goal, the guys from up top, was to get the Air Force in again and hit the Germans. The only bonus, besides the wounded getting evacuated was the supplies.

As well as supplies, communications got through.

Newspapers and mail.

And they found out the 101st was famous back on the home-front.

Murphy thought that was pretty cool. They were famous now.

"Hey, Murph? You think they'll want my picture?" Heffron asked.

"No". She said, "you'll break the camera".

"Murph!" Guarnere grinned, "be nice on the 'fella, huh?"

Smiling, she slapped Heffron's arm, "sorry, Babe".

Everyone's morale was lifted because of the supply drop.

More ammo, food and some even got jackets.

Jackson and Hughes were well and truly snugged up.

She made sure of it, Murphy had them in long coats, hats and scarfs.

They were given long underwear and overshoes.

So, conditions did improve slightly.

"You get mail?" Toye asked, when she jumped into their foxhole.

"Yeah, got a few letters". Murphy replied, "you?"

He nodded, "yeah, one from that 'gal back in England".

"Yeah?" She smirked, "you 'gonna write back to her, pal?"

"What's a good way to start the letter?"

Sighing, Murphy leaned back against the frozen mud. "How about…my dearest, darling-ist, whatever your name is…did you happen to hear, I'm famous now? Upon my arrival, I expect the greatest of welcomes. Shower me in your warm beer, bathe me in your finest wine. And then message my feet and wash my socks, 'cause they 'fecking stink".

Toye chuckled, "you nut, Murph".

Murphy smiled, "my sweetheart, your letters give me the greatest comfort. Knowing that you still find me interesting, is the highest compliment I have ever received. Because I'm a boring bastard".

"Stop it, Murph!"

She laughed and gave his shoulder a nudge. "Hey – she's bloody lucky to have you, Joe".

Toye smiled, "yeah?"

Murphy nodded, giving his arm a rub. "Of course, you're great, Joe".

"What about your mail?"

She looked down at the letters in her hands. Murphy was still worried. She didn't want any sort of comfort from home, not out here. She couldn't risk it. "I'll read them later". Murphy slipped her letters into her inside jacket pocket.

"Patton thinks he fucking rescued us".

"What?" She mumbled with a frown, "they broke the circle, we didn't need rescuing".

"Right?" Toye hissed, "fucking ass".

"And how have they rescued us?" She went on, "we're still here!"

He cleared his throat, "General Taylor's coming back too".

"Oh? Did he enjoy his holiday?"

Toye tutted, "I'm pissed off too, Murph…but we can't stay mad forever".

"Hope that turkey choked him". Murphy muttered, "coming back…after a holiday in Virginia. The cheek of him…bloody arse".

He ended up chuckling quietly, "you're pissed today, huh?"

"Cause you keep on giving me news that pisses me off, Joe Toye".

"Incoming!"

"Oh, Jesus".

Like usual, the German mortars and 88's started to fire into their line.

It was nothing they weren't used to but the shock of that first cry for; "incoming!" They'd never forget it. Everyone was rushing around, diving into foxholes. People were getting hit, limbs were flying through the air, they were crying out for medics, their mothers, just screaming.

Their cover caved in, branches and wood falling on top of them.

"That does it!" Toye was furious. "We're getting those sons of bitches back!"

For the rest of the day, Murphy and Toye re-built their roof.

Guarnere and Heffron came along to help out.

Toye was still livid.

"Grab a few dead Krauts". Guarnere suggested.

Murphy pulled a face, "Bill…I don't know, pal".

He shrugged, "suit yourself".

They were hit again the next day, this time, Heffron's machine-gun assistant Jim got hit with a shrapnel. Gene sent him off to get treated and two hours later he returned back to the line, with a funny story to share. He made a big deal out of it, grabbed everyone around his foxhole.

"I got something to make you all laugh". He was telling them, "when I was getting treated, they brought a badly wounded kid in, a Sargent. He was lying on a homemade stretcher and he had a 45 on him, and the radio was on and Bing Crosby was singing White Christmas. The wounded Sargent took out his 45 and blew the radio to pieces. He said; come over here, you son of a bitch, I'll give you a white Christmas!"

Jim's story made everyone's day, they all got a laugh out of that.

And a couple of days later, another story spread around Easy.

Shifty Powers, heck of a shot. An outdoors-man, Shifty could see things that others might have not been able to see. He grew up in the mountains, on farms, with guns and amazing hunting skills. Well, on the 29th, Shifty could have sworn he saw a tree which wasn't there before. There were a lot of trees – they were in the woods! Lipton had to look through his binoculars and he saw some movement behind it; he saw gun barrels, 88's. The Germans were putting an anti-aircraft battery along the trees. Lipton put a call forward for an artillery observer. And soon enough, they blasted the Germans and their 88's. Within an hour, the place was deserted.

It all happened because Shifty saw a tree almost a mile away that hadn't been there the day before. What a guy.

Murphy wondered down the line that night, checking in on everyone.

Malarkey, Muck and Penkala were sound asleep.

The three of them were snug as three bugs, all wrapped up under blankets, under their poncho and branches, keeping them dry. She pulled the poncho back down and got back up, continuing to walk down the line. Murphy's restless legs had been acting up, she couldn't even remember the last time she closed her eyes and slept. But God, had it been a while.

Toye and Heffron were on OP that night anyway.

So, it made no sense for her to be on her own for a couple of hours.

"Flynn?"

Stopping, she looked down into a foxhole.

"Evening, Gene".

The medic smiled, "how're you doing?"

Murphy got inside the foxhole, "yeah, good. You?"

Gene nodded, rubbing his hands together. "Fine – want some coffee?"

She shook her head with a tiny snort, "no, I'm okay, thanks".

They were quiet for a few moments, just staring out in front of them.

Murphy cleared her throat softly, "been meaning to see you, actually".

"Me?" He sounded a little surprised.

She nodded, "yeah…you had me a little worried, pal".

Gene frowned, looking at her.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "there's no shame in it, Gene. Feeling like shit, out here, it's pretty normal, actually. You run around after everyone all day, you take care of us, stop us from going mad when we get hit. I couldn't do it, I don't think a lot of us could do what you and Ralph do all the time".

Gene watched her quietly for a few moments, processing what she told him. "There was a nurse, back at Bastogne. Her name was Renee. Worked longer hours than I did. She was good with the men, had hands that could calm them down, give them comfort".

Murphy turned to look at him.

"She gave me chocolate". He whispered softly, "I thought she was an angel. Sent down to save as many lives as God wanted. But whenever I saw her, she was always covered in blood, always looking so tired". Gene said, "and then, the aid station got hit and Renee along with it. And I thought, she's finally sleeping, at last. Her work is finished, she's saved many lives and I hope she knew that".

Her face fell slightly, "I'm sure she did". Murphy croaked.

Blinking, she looked away from the medic.

"I'm sure she did". She repeated softly.

Wordlessly, Gene wrapped a blanket around them.

Murphy bit down on her lip, pulling it up towards her chin.

"Want a cigarette?"

"You got some?"

She pulled out a pack from her bag – not the one's Hoobler gave her.

Gene smiled, "thanks, Flynn".

Murphy snorted softly, "you never call anyone by their nicknames, do you?"

"It's a form of attachment".

"Right".

Gene lit up the cigarette. "Murphy".

She smiled a little.

"Princess Murphy".

Murphy chuckled quietly, "oh, that was a long time ago, Gene".

Gene nodded, "it was, wasn't it?"

Her legs shifted, Murphy sighed. "Hate my bloody legs".

He frowned a little, "what's wrong with 'em?"

"Nothing new". She mumbled softly, "they get restless sometimes".

"You need to relax". He said smoothly, "that's the case for restless legs. Being stressed".

"Yeah?"

Gene shrugged, "or, lack of iron in your diet".

Murphy smiled, "I think we'll go with that one, I'm not feeling too stressed".

"You are a lot paler now, since leaving England. Headaches?"

"Some". Murphy mumbled, head now resting on his shoulder.

Gene wrapped an arm around her, "get some sleep, Murphy".

Her eyes were already starting to close.

He smiled, "sweet dreams".


	33. Chapter 33

It was New Year's Eve, they were still in the same positions.

These woods were becoming their home now.

Foxholes had roofs, people hung up their socks inside.

You slept, lived and breathed in these woods.

Twelve day's they had been here now, felt a lot longer.

Murphy, Heffron and Toye were on OP front that night.

So far, it was quiet.

Murphy was sitting between them, keeping herself awake by breaking apart a stick she had found inside the outpost. Sometimes, it was so quiet, that you did feel like dropping off. And Murphy could have, she had two other guys next to her but Heffron looked close to crashing too.

And she thought it was going to be a long two hours.

Until, there came a squeak from the phone.

Toye picked up the phone, "yeah?"

"We're going to give the Germans a little New Year's Eve greeting".

"What? Bill, is that you?"

Murphy looked up at Toye, "what's that?"

Toye told her, "we're blasting the Germans with everything we've got at midnight".

Heffron nodded in approval, "sounds like fun".

At exactly midnight, all their artillery up and down the line got together and let lose.

What a show!

However, after a few rounds, the shells started to fall short, short rounds.

And they started to hit them as well, right in front of the three of them.

The show wasn't so great anymore, not when you were close to getting hit.

Murphy and Heffron had their heads pressed right up against that mud, while Toye grabbed the phone, "get those shells up, get 'em up! Jesus Christ! They're hitting over here!"

God, that would have been a terrible way to go. Getting hit by your own shells.

Murphy's arm reached up, she grabbed onto Toye's arm, pulling him down.

"Get down, Joe!"

Though, despite that moment of terror – they really did give it to the Germans that night.

However, the next day, the Germans got their revenge.

While Murphy and Toye were walking back to their foxhole. The sky soon turned into something more terrifying than fog. The Luftwaffle. An air raid strike.

When that first shell hit, Murphy and Toye crashed onto the ground.

Snow, earth and trees exploded everywhere.

And while the noise was almost deafening, Murphy could make out.

"Fucking Christ!"

She soon crawled over to Toye, who was cradling his arm.

"Are you kidding me, Joe?!" Murphy yelled, "this is your third hit!"

"I know!" He screamed, "Goddammit!"

When another explosion came, Murphy threw herself on top of Toye.

Luckily for them, they didn't get the worst of it.

"Medic!" She called, "come here, please!"

Toye pulled a slightly amused, though painful face. "You're fucking weird".

"Shut up". She whispered.

The shelling's had soon stopped.

"Seems like they were only after you, pal".

Toye sighed, "yeah, maybe".

Malarkey and Gene soon raced over to them.

"You lucky son of a bitch". Malarkey said, shaking his head.

"I'll be back, Malark".

Malarkey grabbed Murphy's hand and pulled her up.

Toye was being led away by Gene.

"You know, you get some guys like Joe, who don't 'wanna leave the line. And then you get others who are relieved to leave".

Murphy gave him a curious stare. "Like who?"

Malarkey shrugged, "certain Harvard boy".

"Webster?" She mumbled, "Jesus…forgot all about him".

He snorted, "see what I mean?"

"He got hit in Holland, right? During the crossroads with the SS?"

Malarkey nodded, crossing his arms.

"Why didn't he go AWOL?"

"Probably a million dollar wound".

Murphy sighed, "seriously?"

"I don't know, Murph". Malarkey muttered, "but people like Joe, they always come back for more. Because people like Joe, they go above and beyond for others. Never thinking of themselves".

Her eyes softened, "we're lucky to have him, Malark".

Malarkey smiled, "can I borrow your guy?"

"Jack, again?" She asked, "what for?"

"Patrol, taking Bain with me".

Murphy nodded, "you bring him back to me, you hear?"

Malarkey chuckled, "Murph – he's a great soldier. You've done a good job".

"He was already a soldier before he joined, pal".

"Well, you've turned him into one hell of a Paratrooper".

She smiled at that, "yeah…he's great".

Malarkey winked, "I might just steal him".

"Get lost, Malark". She mumbled, "you're not stealing Jack from me".

He laughed again and clapped her shoulder, "I wouldn't, Murph".

"Good, they're my friends, you know". She said, "would hate it if – just bring him back".

Malarkey's face turned a little serious, "I promise".

When he left, Murphy made her way back to their Platoon CP.

She hated to give them a bit of bad news, they both looked worn-out.

"Joe's away to the aid station, shrapnel in the arm".

Guarnere sighed, "Jesus Christ". He then said, "alright, you're in charge of Babe and Jim".

Murphy pulled a face, "what?"

"We don't got another Sargent, Murph". He said, "you need to pick up the slack".

"Right, that's fine". She said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Get his machine-gun ready". Buck told her, "we might get another attack".

"Alright, sir".

Murphy turned around and made her way over towards Heffron and Jim.

She sat herself down on the edge of the foxhole.

"What's going on, Murph?" Jim asked. "Anyone get hit?"

Murphy cleared her throat, "eh – Joe's back at the aid station, he'll be alright".

Heffron shook his head, "fucking three times".

"Right?" She mumbled, "looks like I'm your squad leader for the now".

"That's cool, Murph". He said to her, with a smile.

"Yeah, we're a little short on NCO's". Murphy sighed, "however, set up your machine-gun, we might get another attack".

"We're on it". Jim assured her, "piece of cake".

Smiling small, Murphy jumped back onto her feet. "Right – where the hell did I leave Hughes?"

She did wonder then about Webster. Why wasn't he with them?

Malarkey was obviously mad at him, because Toye was getting hit, Alley got hit, Guarnere got hit, Popeye, Carson, Lipton, Buck – point was, those guys all came back and most of them went AWOL, despite the harsh conditions and constant shelling's. Murphy would have come back too. She couldn't leave these guys, they were a family out here.

"Sargent!"

Frowning, she turned around.

Jesus Christ, it was Dike.

"Yes, sir?"

Dike, who looked a little flustered, asked, "where the hell is Lieutenant Shames?"

"Um – probably with 3rd Platoon, sir".

God, that lost idiot.

Sighing, he looked more annoyed at his surroundings. "Goddammit".

And he walked off.

That was the first time she had seen the man since arriving in the woods.

Murphy let that sink in for a moment.

Over a week, and she'd only just seen him.

Looking down at her boots, Murphy glared at the snow.

Why? She asked herself. Why only now?

Winters saw them more often and he had to check all the lines, not just Easy.

"Hey, Murph?" Lipton walked over to her, "Heffron and Jim set-up?"

Murphy looked up from her boots, "what?" She whispered.

He tilted his head to the side, "what is it?"

"I just – never mind". Murphy sighed, "yeah, they're set-up".

Lipton frowned, "you okay, Murph?"

Her eyes must still have a hard look about them.

She rubbed the back of her neck, "I don't like to – to complain or that".

He uncrossed his arms, "go on, Murph". Lipton encouraged her softly.

Murphy cleared her throat, looking back at him.

No, Murphy couldn't complain about Dike to Lipton. He had the entire Company resting on his shoulders, it wouldn't be fair to put that on him.

So, she softened her eyes and smiled.

"Imagine Joe getting hit three times, eh?"

And he smiled back, clapping her shoulder. "Yeah, he sure is lucky, Murph".

Easy didn't deserve Dike and he didn't deserve Easy.

Besides, they had more important things to worry about that a useless CO.

…

The next day, on the 2nd, the entire 2nd Battalion moved out towards the right, to the railroad track. 1st Battalion, in the regimental reserve, moved into 2nd Battalion's old positions.

They formed battle lines on the Foy-Bizory road, looking to the northeast into the dense woods, waiting for orders to move out. This was the same place where they lost Julian.

A Battalion of the 501st was on their right, it would be attacking in support.

When Winters called them to move out, they began to advance forward. The dense wood was exhausting, carrying all their equipment in a foot of snow was sweaty work. And if you stopped, the sweat would turn cold and you'd catch a chill. It was better to keep moving, don't stop.

The biggest challenge for the Sargent's was keeping contact with each other in the snow.

It was hard to see, most of the time, you couldn't see a damn thing.

"Where the – oh, there you are".

And during that attack, they came under heavy fire.

They tried to push them back, using 88's and mortars. But they stood their ground throughout, suffering only a few wounded. They called this, the one-thousand-yard attack.

And from that position, they were told to dig in for the night.

Murphy missed her foxhole. It had a roof, dry sides and Toye.

Now, she was digging up a new foxhole. The mud was frozen, it wasn't an easy task. Everyone was tired from pushing those Germans back. Sargent's didn't have to dig foxholes, but Murphy saw how tired her boys looked and decided to help them out that night, including Heffron and Jim.

They had set up outposts again, as well. Winters planned them all out.

"You're on next, Babe". Murphy told Heffron.

"Sure thing, Murph".

Heffron leaned against a tree, waiting for his turn on outpost.

Murphy checked in on Jackson and Hughes.

"Could be deeper". She told them, "I know the grounds frozen but it's not great cover".

"Alright, Sarge". Hughes sighed, with a tiny yawn on the end.

Murphy smiled, a little sadly. "Here – let me help".

After helping them, yet again, Murphy got up and moved down the line.

She spotted Guarnere, who was sitting in his foxhole with Bain.

"Hey, Murph". Guarnere said to her, "did Hoob tell you he found a damn Luger?"

Shaking her head, Murphy sat on the edge of his foxhole.

"Shot a Kraut off a Goddamn horse". He said, "been bragging about it all night".

She snorted, with a tiny smile. "Malark know?"

"Oh, you bet". Guarnere smirked, "boys dug-in?"

Murphy nodded, rubbing her eyes. "Yup – all in and accounted for. Babe should be on OP now".

"Almost three in the morning". Bain said.

"Get some shut-eye, would you?" Guarnere told their radioman. "Same goes for you, Murph".

"What's the plan for tomorrow, Bill?" She asked.

"Hell, if I know". He grumbled, "miss my little foxhole".

Murphy smiled a little, "yeah…was thinking the same thing".

"Hey, you did not bad today, Murph". Guarnere said, "you know, for someone who's never had a machine-gun squad".

"Right". Murphy laughed quietly, "thanks, Bill".

 **Bang!**

It was one single shot but enough for everyone to pick up their weapons.

"What the fuck was that?" Bain asked, after a moment of silence.

"Three to four yards away". Guarnere mumbled, "Murph?"

She pulled a face, "me?"

"Yeah – go and see".

"I'm sure it's-"

"where the hell are you going?"

Heffron walked away from OP, "what the hell was that?"

Murphy shook her head, "we don't know".

"So, why are we sitting around?" Guarnere asked, "go and see, go!"

Setting her jaw, Murphy grabbed her rifle and climbed out of the foxhole.

"You arse, Bill Guarnere".

Heffron and Murphy walked up the line, until they could hear mumbles of;

"take it easy, it's alright. Don't worry".

That sparked their attention.

Both of them soon ran towards the sound.

Murphy's rifle dropped from her hands.

Shit, it was Hoobler.

Swallowing, she got between Buck and Hashey, just by Hoobler's head.

"What happened?"

"Luger went off, hit his leg". Lipton told her, "but it's 'gonna be fine – keep him warm, come on".

Buck soon placed his jacket across Hoobler's chest, who was shaking.

Murphy looked over at Hoobler's leg, God, the blood had soaked right through.

Gene was trying his hardest to locate the wound.

But it was dark, Hoobler was wearing so many layers of clothing to protect himself from the cold, that Gene couldn't see a thing. And they couldn't use a light, that would set the Germans off. They had German tanks all around them, they would have annihilated everyone.

"How're we doing, doc?" Buck asked.

"I can't see a thing!" He exclaimed, "we 'gotta get him back to the aid station!"

Lipton nodded, "alright, let's get ready to move him".

Hoobler, who was squirming around, groaning in pain, stilled a little.

His face, it got paler and his lips looked bluer than ever.

Murphy stared down at him, placing a hand on the side of his face.

"Hoob?" She called out, "hey – come on, pal".

Heffron ran a hand down his face and looked at his boots.

Oh, fuck.

And the light slowly left his eyes, while he stared at Perconte.

And then, they slipped shut.

Gene was still trying.

Buck, who looked defeated called out to him. "Doc".

And they all went quiet.

"Jesus". Lipton whispered, sitting down on the snow heavily.

"Perco, we need a jeep". Buck said, looking off towards the trees.

Murphy blinked, feeling her heart sink.

She looked over at Lipton.

The man was remaining strong for them all and didn't she just admire him for that. They all did, Lipton was one of the best. But right in that moment, Murphy caught a tiny amount of spark leave his eyes. Just for a second. Until he got back up again.

"I'll tell the Captain".

She got onto her feet, "I'll go with you".

Sargent Rader, he was Hoobler's best friend.

That was the man who'd be hit the most. They'd need to keep an eye on him.

"We need to tell Rader".

"Johnny will". Lipton responded quietly. "It'll be better coming from him, or Christenson".

Murphy crossed her arms, hands digging into her armpits. It was very cold. It was always cold but that night, it was freezing.

And the walk to the CP tent was long. She wasn't sure if things would ever be okay. Maybe they'd get out of these woods, out of Belgium. But after, what would happen to them? How could they ever not stop and think about their time here?

Life was so fragile. It was a lousy accident. Hoobler was only talking, when some snow got under his jacket. And he was shaking it off, and the gun went off in his pocket. The bullet hit an artery. One of the main artery's, they didn't have the resources to save him and they couldn't see a thing.

And there was Lipton, standing before Winters and Nixon, telling them what had happened.

"He was wearing so many clothes, we couldn't tell how bad he was bleeding. By the time we got him to the aid station, he was already dead. The bullet cut the main artery in his leg, sir".

Nixon sighed, "ah, hell, Lip. It wouldn't have made a difference if you had known. Cut that main artery in the leg, that's – that's it".

Murphy blinked and looked out of CP, it had started to snow.

It fell fast, thick and heavy. Covering up the previous snow.

"Yes, sir". Lipton responded quietly, "well, I'm 'gonna go back, make sure the boys are all dug in, sir".

Just as Lipton turned to leave, Winters called him back.

"Lip".

Lipton turned around.

"Where's Dike?"

Murphy looked away from the weather, facing Winters.

"You 'wanna see him, sir?" Lipton asked him.

"No, I just would have expected to get this kind of news from him".

"Well, I was there, sir". He said softly, "I figured it might as well be me".

When he left, Murphy rubbed her lips together.

"He couldn't find him?" Winters asked her.

She shook her head. "That's not it".

He looked cold, colder than he had ever been.

Murphy walked over to a shelf and picked up a Sterno can and opened it up.

Winters and Nixon watched her curiously.

Reaching out of the tent, she grabbed a handful of snow and placed it inside, once the can was lit and the little blue flame appeared.

Ah, she was making coffee.

Murphy had loads of coffee, she never drank the stuff. And it was almost like seeing your wife or mother in a kitchen, collecting cups, pouring out hot water and mixing the coffee up with a spoon.

She handed one to Winters, the other to Nixon.

And brought a tiny smile to their faces.

Murphy leaned against one of the wooden pillars.

"Were you there?" Nixon asked her.

"Briefly". She replied quietly, "me and Babe…Bill wanted us to check out the noise".

Like every other guy, Murphy was sick of seeing their friends die.

But there was this huge wall inside your head, that you had been building up since training. It kept you safe, guarded from feeling that heavy grief, which sat neatly on your shoulders, just waiting to take it's hold on you. One day, that wall would crumble, and you'd be left in a river of your own tears. You had to prepare yourself for grief, just like you had to prepare yourself for war.

If it wasn't the Germans you were fighting, you had this battle going on inside your head every day.

Murphy knew when to switch it on and off, for now, she did.

But she could feel tiny cracks appear in her wall.

How long did she have left, until it all came crumbling down?

Next thing she knew, Winters was standing in front of her.

Her hands were shaking, she didn't know.

But then again, Murphy was freezing.

"Where's your coat?"

She looked up at him, a confused look across her face.

Winters sighed, "Murphy…you didn't get a coat from the supply drop?"

"I didn't – no, I guess not".

She was too worried about her boys freezing up, Murphy had forgotten about herself.

"I'm alright". She whispered.

Winters placed his hand on the side of her face.

And Murphy, just like that – her hands stopped shaking.

Well, from her walls breaking.

They were still shaking from the cold.

Murphy took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, "it's going to be fine".

Winters couldn't quite believe she was telling him this.

"Maybe not today, or tomorrow…but on the third day, it'll be fine".

Winters kissed her forehead, "you're remarkable, Murphy".

She opened her eyes, "it's snowing, Dick Winters". She whispered, "the world is on fire, and I love you".

His smiled wavered, just a little.

"I love you, Murphy Flynn".

Back on the main line, morale was low.

Murphy had spotted Buck, who was going around each foxhole, reminding everyone to be careful. And she wanted to avoid that talk because Christ, they were all trying to be careful. But Buck walked over to her, a forced smile on his lips. And that was the first time she had noticed this change in demeanour that everyone whispered about.

"Murph, where's your foxhole buddy?"

She shook her head, "don't have one".

Buck sighed, "alright, you're with me".

Murphy followed Buck quietly towards his foxhole.

They both got in, he brought out a blanket.

"What'd Winters say?"

"Oh, him and Nixon were both – gutted, yeah". She said softly.

"Yeah". Buck sighed, "you just 'gotta be careful, alright?"

Murphy nodded slowly, "always 'am, sir".

He smiled briefly at her, "yeah – good, right".

It was a little worrying. If they lost Buck, they wouldn't have an officer for 2nd Platoon.

Now, Guarnere would do an excellent job replacing him but God, Buck would be a heavy loss.

She looked at him, Buck was staring off.

Murphy blinked, staring at the blanket.

Buck knew most things about them. He had gone around asking where they were from, what they liked, disliked. He was very close with the men, like their friends. Officers weren't supposed to make friends with their enlisted men because well, they got hit, some died. Buck must have lost a lot of friends, Murphy didn't even think about that.

And Dike. He didn't know anything about the men.

Winters got to know his guys, not on a friendship level. Just enough to know where they were from and he'd listen if you wanted to talk about your family from time to time.

But Dike…he didn't know anything.

Buck was very much involved. Back in training, he'd eat in their mess-hall, not the officers.

That's why everyone loved Buck. He was a soldier's soldier.

And what's why Buck's distant stare, worried her.

God, the man was so quiet. He was never quiet.

Murphy looked back at him, jumping a little when his eyes were on her.

"Stay safe, huh?" He whispered.

She nodded quickly, "yeah, sir".

Swallowing, Murphy looked away from him.

"Will you marry him?"

"Winters?" She whispered softly.

"Yeah". Buck said, just as quietly. "Will you?"

"In a heartbeat".

His lips twitched at that.

"There isn't anything I want more". She said, "than to make him happy, for the rest of his life".

"I hope I find love like that". Buck mumbled quietly.

"She'd be lucky to have you, sir".

He snorted, "you say that to all the guys".

Murphy shrugged, "cause it's true".

"Even Dike?"

A tiny smile spread across her lips, "I feel bad for her".

Buck, despite his current mood, laughed very softly.

Murphy looked back at him, just wanting to make sure she hadn't imagined that laugh.

"Ah, Murph". He said, "don't you go and change now, you hear?"

She shook her head, turning back to face the front again. "No chance of that, sir".

At least, she hoped.


	34. Chapter 34

After a few hours of "sleep", everyone got up.

Buck and Guarnere had gathered everyone around that morning.

"Peacock's leaving, Foley's taking over". Buck told them all, "we – uh – we should probably say goodbye to him. He got a thirty-day furlough back to the States, Captain Nixon didn't 'wanna go".

"Looks like Nixon saved the day". Heffron whispered to her.

"Sh!" She hissed, elbowing his side.

But then added.

"You're right".

When they all gathered around to wish Peacock farewell, everyone had smiles on their faces.

Peacock was none the wiser.

"Boy, am I glad to hear you're going home, Lieutenant". Sargent McCreary said, "that's the best news I've heard since we left Mourmelon!"

"Awe, jeeze…I 'dunno what to say". He even blushed.

Murphy cleared her throat, trying hard not to laugh.

When that guy left, a bunch of cameramen and reporters showed-up.

They were all around CP, where they were serving up beans and fritters for breakfast.

The guys would shove a camera in your face, asking you about the war and how you felt about Patton "saving the day". Honest to God, some of them were just sick of that question by now. But Sink had told them to smile, be polite and answer their questions respectfully.

Murphy avoided those cameras at all costs.

She was shy, her body went all stiff just thinking about them.

However, Guarnere thought it would be funny to hold her still.

"Wave to your 'ma, Murph!"

Her smile was nothing short of a grimace, while she gave a sheepish wave.

"You're an arse, Bill".

"Oh, are you Sargent Flynn?" One of the reporters asked.

Murphy shook her head, "no – I'll go get her".

She could hear Winters laughing.

Setting him a very soft glare, Murphy walked towards the back of the chow line.

Guarnere was still laughing. "Man, you looked frozen like ice!"

She rubbed her hands together, shaking her head. "I'll knock you out, if you do that again".

"Oh, you 'wanna fight?" He grinned, "come on, let's spar. That'll give the reporters something to talk about, huh?"

Murphy ended up smiling, "ah, Bill…you're such a delightful arse, I'll give you that".

A jeep pulled up with Father Maloney.

But he wasn't alone, Toye was with him.

He got out of the jeep, sling holding up his arm.

Winters caught sight of him, "what are you doing here?"

"I 'wanna head back on the line, sir".

"Joe, you don't have to do that". He told him, "get yourself back to the aid station. Heal up".

Toye took off his sling, "I'd really like to head back with the fellas and Murph, sir".

Winters nodded, "alright then, go".

He smiled, "thank you, sir".

Guarnere and Murphy were both smiling when they saw him.

"Hey, Joe".

"Hey, Bill".

They shook hands, "good to see you, pal".

"Yeah, you too – hey, Murph".

Murphy smiled, shaking his hand next. "What the hell are you doing, Joe?"

Toye shrugged, "had to make sure you were on top of things".

Guarnere grinned, "I'm on top of things".

The three of them walked up the chow line.

"Tied me own boots once last week. All by 'meself".

Murphy shook her head, "that was terrible, Bill".

"It was meant to be – hey, fellas, look who I found!"

Everyone was happy to see Toye again.

Two days he had spent at the aid station and he was already back.

Malarkey was right, Toye was their greatest soldier in combat.

And while the rest were getting reacquainted with Toye, Murphy wondered over to CP, once Sink and Strayer had cleared off. She walked under the CP tent and took off her helmet, before leaning against one of the pillars. Winters looked up from a map he had been studying.

"Yes, Murphy?"

Smiling a little, she shrugged.

"Joe looks happy to be back". Nixon observed, "how long was he off?"

"Not long enough". Winters responded, "Peacock leave okay?"

Murphy chuckled softly, "yeah – yeah, fine".

His features softened, a tender smile reached his lips.

It was good to hear her laugh again, Winters had missed it.

"Thank you, Captain Nixon".

He snorted, shaking his head. "Don't mention it – ever".

Smiling, Murphy looked down at her hands. "So…what's happening now?"

Winters cleared his throat, "we're heading back to our old positions this afternoon".

"Oh, good". She said, "I missed my foxhole".

His lips twitched, "really?"

Murphy nodded, looking up at him. "Yeah…it was nice having a roof over my head".

Winters walked over to her, placing his hands on the sides of her arms.

"Another thing". She whispered, "we're attacking Foy one day?"

He nodded, "yeah, once we've cleared the woods".

Murphy knew Winters was thinking the same.

Dike.

The only issue was that man. And she bet, on anything, Winters and Nixon discussed that man when no one else was listening. Winters knew what a good leader was, he could see potential before you saw it yourself. So, having someone like Dike lead one of his Companies, must have been horrible to watch. And this wasn't just any Company to Winters, this was his old Company, the first Company he had been assigned to. This was where he led 2nd Platoon, this was where he started off, climbing up the ladder to where he was now.

His attachment to Easy, would always be with him and them.

And no, Murphy wouldn't talk about Dike to him.

They couldn't do anything about it. If something could have been done, Winters would have sorted it long ago. But what she could do was support the man she loved, by assuring him that everything would be fine; that's all she could do for the time being.

"Where the hell is – Murph?!"

Winters chuckled and gave her a quick kiss.

Smiling, she let out a tiny sigh. "I didn't think it would be that quick before they noticed I was gone".

"See you back at our old position, sweetheart".

"Bye, love – goodbye, Captain Nixon".

The man grinned, "bye, Murph".

So, that afternoon, 2nd and 3rd Platoons headed back to their old positions, while 1st remained attached to Dog Company for the time being. It was another hike through the snow, with heavy equipment and boots dragging behind one another. Though, the mood was still lifted because Toye was back with them, and he was doing just fine.

However, this part of the woods had took quite the hit.

Their foxholes were near enough ruined and when Toye jumped into theirs, he was disgusted to find that the previous Company didn't leave for anything.

"You 'gotta me fucking kidding me!"

Murphy frowned, "what?"

"Someone took a shit in our foxhole!"

She pulled a face, "what?"

"Someone's 'gonna fucking die!" He raged, "Gurno?! Look at this shit! One of those 1st Battalion fuckers took a shit in our foxhole!"

Guarnere sighed, "think they shit in everyone's foxhole, Joe. I don't think they wanted to spend much time above ground".

Murphy looked around her, the trees were like toothpicks.

They must have taken a lot of hits while they were gone.

The Germans must have been watching this area closely. Waiting. Like lions.

"Can we not – like scoop it out?" Murphy asked.

Toye looked up at her, "oh, you 'wanna do that, Murph?"

"No way, pal…you can do it".

So, everyone started to reinforce their cover.

Collecting branches, wood, much like before.

Only, Murphy and Toye had to clean up shit on top of that.

There were shell-holes and treeburst everywhere. God, they really took a good hit. Murphy was picking up branches, passing Guarnere and Lipton, who were helping everyone out. Perhaps coming back here, wasn't such a good idea.

 _ **Woosh!**_

"Incomming!"

The Germans soon started hitting them with artillery. When you got an artillery bombardment, shells went screaming over your head and you had to dive into the first cover you saw. The shelling's were unbearable. It was constant hit, after hit. Everything flew up into the air, snow, dirt, the whole ground, blood, body parts, trees – everything. It goes shooting up all around you, all the while the ground shook, worse than an earthquake. The noise deafened you, made you ears hurt like nothing else, you were convinced your head would explode from the sheer force and power of those shells.

And the sky, it lit up like a terrifying fireworks display.

Now, the Sargent's and officers, they had to run around, making sure their guys were in cover and alive. So, when that first shell struck and Murphy fell to the ground, she had to get back up and run. Running with a shaking earth, it wasn't good. It slowed you down, made you dizzy and confused. You couldn't hear anything, could barely see from everything flying at you.

It was like living in a different world.

She almost felt drunk. And you couldn't talk, it would sound like you were underwater. No one could hear you and this was far worse than Veghel. Murphy tripped up countless of times, crawling at some parts of her journey. Normally, it would have taken her seconds to reach her boys but this time, it took minutes.

Hughes and Jackson were both fine, though they didn't see her.

They had their heads down, pulling close together.

When she realised they were safe, Murphy ended up crawling back towards another cover.

It was Guarnere who pulled her inside.

Soon, she was inside a foxhole with him.

Murphy and Guarnere lay there, close together, eyes shut.

He was making promises to the man upstairs, "God, if you get me out of this place alive, I'll do anything you want".

She grabbed his hand, well, if they were going to die, at least they'd be together.

Malarkey dove in next.

The three of them all huddled together, hoping they'd get out of this one alive.

It was horrendous. Murphy could imagine guys screaming for medics, while others ran to find some cover; anywhere. But the thing is, they only had two medics. So, whoever got hit, it better not have been one of their medics – they'd be screwed.

When it ended.

There was silence all around.

Or, it could have been half the guys were now deaf.

Slowly, the three of them checked each other over, before looking over the edge.

"Maybe we should check if anybody's hit". Malarkey said.

"Nah, Malark, that's what they want. Krauts are trying to draw us out in the open".

Murphy swallowed, "good point".

She then added.

"We'll give it a few moments, then look".

"Deal". Guarnere said. "Everyone's squad in a hole?"

They both nodded.

"Alright, good".

"Stay in your foxholes!" Lipton was yelling, while he checked the line. "Stay in your foxholes!"

"I need my helmet!"

The three of them frowned.

"I 'gotta get up…I 'gotta get up!"

"You hear that?" Malarkey mumbled.

"I need help!"

"Is that Joe?" Guarnere asked.

"Yeah, I think that's Joe".

Murphy felt led land in her stomach.

Guarnere gripped the edge of the foxhole, "stay".

Oh, the hell with that.

Murphy started to get up.

"Murph!" Guarnere said to her, "stay with Malark".

"No". She pulled a face, "Bill, if that's-"

"I'll deal with it". He told her, "stay".

Malarkey grabbed onto her jacket, pulling her back.

Murphy landed with a soft thud.

"He's right, Murph".

"He's wrong". She mumbled, shaking her head.

Sighing, he sat down next to her. "I 'wanna look too".

"So, why the hell are we sitting here?"

Murphy got up and grabbed her rifle.

"Let's go help".

The pair of them raced down the line, checking in with their squads.

Hughes and Jackson were pale, maybe a little shaken but they were okay.

"When this end's, we'll get back up and tear those fuckers to the ground".

"Yes, Sarge". Jackson answered firmly.

Murphy reached over, giving Hughes shoulder a shake. "Right, Hughes?"

He nodded, "yes, Sarge".

"Okay, stay down, don't move – I'll come back".

Murphy made her way back down the line, meaning to find Guarnere and Joe.

But they were hit, yet again.

Her legs wobbled and she fell into the snow.

Murphy covered her head, thinking; right, this is it. I've had plenty of misses, this one's bound to hit me down. But please, make it end quickly.

Closing her eyes, she expected to be blown to nothing.

But someone grabbed her and picked her up.

It was Malarkey.

Murphy looked at him when they reached a hole, as if he was an angel from the sky.

The two of them huddled closely together, waiting for this nightmare to end.

Holding each other, in these dire moments.

Murphy's hand was clutching onto his jacket, his hand on her arm.

Their helmets pressed against each other, like this would save them.

But it did. For that terrible ordeal, it saved them.

Breathing heavily, they both pulled apart.

"Medic!"

There came the panicked scream of Lieutenant Compton.

"Medic!"

Murphy didn't want to know, Malarkey grabbed her arm.

"Murph, let's go".

Swallowing, with a shaky sigh, she nodded.

They had to go. Buck didn't sound good, it was either him, or someone else.

Neither of which would have been good.

But the sight that met her, she didn't quite know what to do.

More than a dozen soldiers were bleeding in the snow. Cries for help rose from all over the woods. Safe or not to be out in the open, men started popping out of their foxholes. And when they walked further down, they saw Guarnere and Toye.

Buck had his helmet off, hand running through his hair.

But Guarnere had Toye.

Murphy was frozen for a moment.

Guarnere was missing a leg, Toye's was almost off.

Blood was everywhere. Covering the white snow.

Remarkably, they were both so calm.

While Malarkey went over to Toye, Murphy found her feet and walked towards Guarnere.

She sat down next to him.

Guarnere looked at her, "what can I say, Murph? Looks like they got me this time, huh?"

Murphy didn't know what to say either, neither did Heffron, who lit a cigarette and placed it into his mouth. Guarnere gave him the smallest of winks.

"You two look after yourselves, huh?" He said to them, "watch out for each other".

When Murphy didn't speak, Heffron did.

"Will do, Bill".

Guarnere looked back at Murphy, "don't ignore me, you mick".

Murphy blinked, shaking her head. "I wasn't".

"Good". He responded, smoothly.

Gene was tending to Toye.

Jackson and Hughes soon walked down.

Murphy wasn't looking at them, "Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, you know".

Guarnere's lips twitched, "right back at you, Murph".

A stretcher soon came over for Guarnere.

"Over here! Take this man!" Gene ordered them.

Heffron and Murphy carefully helped their friend onto the stretcher.

While Jackson ran off to stop a jeep.

"Get these men to the aid station".

The driver shook his head, "I've got ammo to take up front".

Jackson pulled out his gun, "the hell with the ammo! Get these men back!"

Guarnere looked at Murphy, "I like your kid, Murph".

"Me too, Bill".

She then grabbed his hand, before they took him away.

"Hey, Joe! I told you I'd beat you back to the States!"

Murphy looked at him, "hey, Bill?"

He was close to passing out by this point.

A smile wavered, "get lost".

He huffed, "yeah…".

When he left, Murphy quickly walked over to Toye.

She wanted to see him before they took him back too.

Malarkey cleared a space for her, and she was sitting near his head.

"You 'gonna be okay?"

Murphy huffed, "what?"

Toye looked at her, "Murph…back at Ragent".

Malarkey and Murphy's faces dropped. The roof. Why was he bringing up that?

"Joe, you're not a failure". She said to him, "look at you, eh? You shine brighter than anyone".

Murphy clenched her jaw.

"Anyone".

Toye raised his hand, Murphy clasped hers into his.

"God, what's a guy 'gotta do to die, Malark?"

Malarkey sniffed and looked away, "I 'dunno, Joe…I 'dunno".

Toye looked back at Murphy, "I'll be seeing you".

And then, Toye was taken away by stretcher.

Murphy looked at Malarkey.

Most of the guys around them had this stare, the thousand-yard stare.

One of their guys, who they called Sad Sack, because he looked like a comic strip character, helmet was always falling off his head, he was in Toye's squad, and he was crying buckets and jumped on that jeep to see them off.

The worst part was not knowing.

Would Guarnere and Toye make it out alive?

And right after it happened, Buck left.

He had just witnessed his two best friends being blown-up.

And no one thought any differently of him for leaving. He was their best officer. Always putting others before himself, always so kind and compassionate. There weren't many like Buck. And him leaving, along with Toye and Guarnere gone, the morale dropped to an all time low.

Who was going to pick up the morale now?

Malarkey was leading 2nd Platoon now. They didn't have an officer, it was up to him.

They could all trust Malarkey.

But everyone missed them.

Murphy was wondering around in a bit of a daze, really.

She sat down on the edge of her squad's foxhole, not having much to say.

"Sarge?" Hughes whispered.

Jackson bit his lip, looking at her.

Blinking, she looked at them.

Murphy cleared her throat.

"Make your foxholes better". She mumbled, "build a roof – just, do something".

Because giving them a job, was the best option.

If they sat around and thought about it, they wouldn't survive.

"Alright, Sarge". Jackson said to her softly, "we'll do that".

When walking back to her foxhole, she heard a few guys say;

"Dike left us. Gone to get help, apparently".

"Help, out there? Fucking Christ. We're screwed".

Maybe they were screwed.

Though while some guys looked close to breaking, others remained calm.

They were expecting an infantry attack from the Germans, Lipton kept everyone busy and geared-up for this attack. But it didn't come. And they had no more shelling's that night, which left them with silence. That guy, who had cried upon seeing their Sargent's, he came back from the aid station and cried in his foxhole that night. You could hear him sobbing, Murphy the most, she was closest to him. And she just sat there, alone in her foxhole, listening to him.

Thank God that's not me.

And all she could think, through it all was;

 _If this isn't my breaking point, then what the hell is?_

And that thought, that scared her.

…

The next morning, the medics cleared out the wounded and the bodies remained in the snow. Dike reappeared and things went back to normal. For some. That guy, Sad Sack, he was still crying in his foxhole. Murphy made her way down the line, feeling again, a little dazed. It was weird not waking up with Toye, weird not heading over to Platoon CP and receiving orders from Guarnere and Buck. But she couldn't think about it, Murphy just had to keep going.

"Get up". She told her squad, "get some water, I'll see about jobs".

Hughes and Jackson, they didn't sleep.

No one did, she was sure of it.

They were either torn-up about yesterday or scared for another bombardment.

Murphy didn't sleep, God, she couldn't.

It was too cold, and the snow was still falling.

She made her way towards Heffron and Jim next.

"Murph?" Heffron looked at her, "what's going on?"

Murphy shook her head, "no idea – you two alright for supplies?"

"We're fine, Murph". Jim replied softly.

Murphy went quiet for a few moments, "right".

And she got up, "make your foxholes better".

Murphy didn't know what she was doing, and she might have grabbed her rifle and just fired out towards the open field, towards Foy, if Malarkey hadn't come over to her.

"We're wanted at CP".

"Okay".

Malarkey looked as rough as she felt.

Damn, what the hell were they thinking?

When they reached CP, they both saluted Winters.

And Murphy found it very hard to look at him for a moment.

"After yesterday". He started off softly, "we need our 2nd Platoon in safe hands".

Malarkey knew what was coming.

Murphy had no idea.

"Malarkey, you're officially a Staff Sargent, you'll be leading 2nd Platoon until we find a replacement officer, understood, son?"

He gave him a tiny nod, "yes, sir".

It was good Malarkey was leading their Platoon.

No one would trust another replacement officer, not after Dike.

"Alright, Malarkey. You're dismissed".

"Sir".

When he left CP, Winters looked at Murphy, the woman he loved most in this world.

He couldn't help it, he felt so much relief that she was safe.

"We don't need a replacement officer". She mumbled, "Malarkey will do great".

Winters nodded, "I know, sweetheart. That's why I picked him".

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "he left".

His face fell slightly.

"Dike, he just – just left". She shook her head, with a sigh. "I'm not sure why. I don't know if he was scared, or if he even cares". Murphy swallowed, "and I promised myself, I'd never bring him up around you, love, because I know this is out of your control". She rubbed her forehead, "but Jesus Christ – he just left".

Winters, taking in a shaky breath, placed his hands on the side of her face.

"Murphy, I can't afford to lose you".

"You won't lose me". She whispered, "I'm not going to fall into a hole and cry – like that one guy's doing right now. I don't want to".

Nodding, Winters pressed his lips against her.

Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck.

The kiss was very fierce. More than it had ever been.

It took her breath away.

She pulled back, getting that breath back.

Winters trailed his fingers along her jaw, "you're 'gonna be fine, Murphy Flynn".

Murphy wasn't certain.

But for that moment, she was alive and kissing the man she loved most in the world.

When she got back into her foxhole, that guy was still crying.

Murphy couldn't make this up.

So, she relieved Grant's boys and took OP that night.

She didn't care about shelling's, Murphy just couldn't stand the sound of a guy crying his heart out at losing their best NCO's and officer. He had given-up hope, that much was true. When you buried yourself inside your hole and cried, you thought things could only get worse. And they probably would get worse, but they just had to go through. No other way around but go through it.

And boy, if Murphy wanted to cry in her foxhole, she'd imagine Guarnere giving her all kinds of hell. That made her smile, even just for a moment. God, she was going to miss having that Philly around, always on her case, getting her into all sorts of trouble. Bringing out her wild side.

"Hey, Murph".

And it was Grant, who soon joined her.

Murphy looked up at him.

He was staring out across the field.

"Someone locked up, pal?"

A tiny smile reached Grant's lips, "no, Murph…not this time".

Murphy stared back out towards the field.

You couldn't see Foy well that night.

But it was there, and the Germans were waiting for them.

"They better put up one hell of a fight, Chuck". She whispered, "they have no idea what's heading their way".


	35. Chapter 35

On the 5th of January, Easy were pulled back to regimental reserve south of Foy.

Sad Sack had gone quiet, Murphy couldn't find him.

She figured he was either dead, or back as Winters runner.

January 8th brought the worst snow storm, it was heavy and the coldest it had ever been.

And they had to clear those woods, east of Foy during that snow storm.

On the 10th, they cleared the woods west of Foy and dug in.

Resistance was light during those attacks. They didn't suffer any wounded.

Murphy's boys were digging in and Heffron and Jim, they were no longer apart of her squad.

A replacement Sargent took over.

They were given replacements when they were in reserve.

Though, not one officer for 2nd Platoon. They were mostly enlisted men.

Murphy was sitting on the edge of Heffron's foxhole.

"I don't know what to tell you, Babe". She said, "I tried to keep you but-"

"don't worry about it, Murph". He said through a sigh, "I'll talk to Malark, see what he can do".

"You really want me as your squad leader?"

Heffron nodded, "yeah, this new replacement, he don't know anything, Murph".

Murphy sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.

He looked at her, "you doing okay?"

She nodded, "you?"

Heffron looked away from her, "bit different, huh?"

Murphy noticed his eyes shift, "yeah, it's different, Babe". She agreed softly, "but we don't have to make it into something bad, you understand me?"

"Hey, you two". Muck and Penkala were in the foxhole ten-feet in front of them.

"What's that, Skip?" Murphy asked, with a tiny smile.

"You hear about Dike?" Muck asked them, "George tell's me he said, you organise things here, and I'm going for help – he's an asshole, right?"

Sighing quietly, she nodded.

"Fucking Christ". Heffron muttered, "what the hell are we 'gonna do?"

"We can't do anything". Penkala said, "that's the problem".

 _ **Whoosh!**_

"Incoming!"

Soon, the entire world blew-up in another shelling bombardment.

Murphy wasn't sure if this one was worse than their last, but it was just as horrible.

Everyone was running back and forth, trying to find some cover.

The trees exploded, shells smashing into them and shredding them into nothing.

Murphy had to get up and check her boys.

"Stay!" Heffron yelled.

Shaking her head, she got onto unsteady feet and proceeded down the line. And like last time, she fell over, crawled half the journey and got a mouthful of snow and dirt.

The impacts shook her to the very bone, it was like she was on a plane, which was flying upside down. That was the only way she could describe moving during a bombardment.

And like being under water once again, she couldn't hear the screams around her.

It was like a constant powerful wind, sweeping past her face.

Through weary eyes, she spotted someone lying on the ground.

Using her hands, she dragged herself towards the body.

His face was covered in blood, one leg and one arm ripped off from him.

And it was Hughes.

He was still breathing.

Murphy, not knowing how, got onto her feet and grabbed his jacket.

And she dragged her boy towards a shell-hole, one that had just been created.

Once inside, she wrapped her arms around him, his head pressing into her chest.

Murphy cradled him, like a mother would do for her child.

She rocked him back and forth, pressing her cheek on the top of his bloodied head.

Hughes was gasping, choking on blood and body shaking from blood loss.

He wasn't scared, he knew he was going to die.

Murphy closed her eyes, feeling the wall inside of her start to crack. She was going to lose him, Murphy knew that. But at least now, Hughes wasn't going to die alone, on the ground while the German's shelled them without care.

Losing Hughes was like a never-ending punch to the stomach.

And when things got quiet, it took Murphy a few minutes to get back up.

This was going to be hard.

Murphy carefully lay Hughes in the shell-hole.

After collecting his tags, campaign badges and the likes from his jacket, Murphy covered him up with a blanket and promised to write to his parents, telling them how proud they should feel about their son, who was one of the best soldiers Murphy had the pleasure of working with.

She left that hole; didn't tell anyone they had just lost Hughes.

Murphy couldn't, if she told someone, she'd crumble.

Jackson was fine, him and Malarkey were one-hundred yards away when the attack hit them. They had been out on a patrol, Murphy decided to stay behind with Hughes, they had planned to chip away at foxholes, help others dig in. And she didn't quite know how she was going to tell Jackson this.

But bad news; that usually came in threes.

Heffron looked to be in utter shock and confusion, while he looked up towards the sky.

Murphy walked over to him.

He was in so much shock, he didn't notice the blood on Murphy.

"They just – they vanished, Murph". He whispered.

Pulling a face, Murphy followed his gaze up towards the tree's.

Who the hell were they looking for?

"Shell hit them". Heffron croaked, "they hit them and – they've just vanished".

Murphy, who had just held onto a friend while he died, wasn't in the mood for guessing games. And she might have just snapped, demanding to know who he was talking about but Heffron uttered two quiet names, no one was expecting.

"Skip and Penk".

Her first thought, well, it went right to Malarkey.

Malarkey and Muck were close like brothers, even closer. Had been since Toccoa. From day one, they clicked and formed a bond like no other. And maybe that's why most of the men cried, because that bond was broken and their hearts were breaking for Malarkey, who had no idea what had happened.

After Muck, it was Toye and Buck.

They were Malarkey's closest friends in Easy and he had just lost them all.

"Shit".

Heffron nodded slowly.

Murphy walked over to the foxhole and started to dig into the dirt.

There had to be something.

And eventually, she found a cross poking out.

Murphy pulled it up from the dirt, it was Muck's rosary beads.

"We need to tell him". Heffron whispered.

She knew he was talking about Malarkey.

"Before some replacement does".

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy got out of the foxhole.

"I'll do it". She said quietly, "I'll do it".

Heffron nodded, crossing his arms. "Be better coming from you, Murph".

Murphy cleared her throat, "what happened?"

He blinked, looking away from her. "Shell hit their foxhole".

"Okay". She whispered, putting the beads into her pocket. "I'll go".

"Luz was trying to reach them". He added, "they were yelling for him to come over".

"Right". Murphy croaked. "I'm 'gonna – I need to tell him now, Babe".

That hundred-yard walk was the longest walk of her life.

And when he heard the crunch of her boots in the snow, Malarkey looked at her. He could tell, by the change in her face, that this wasn't just a regular visit. It wasn't something to do with OP, patrols or an upcoming objective. This was serious and Malarkey was already preparing himself.

Murphy sat down next to him, he was on the edge of his foxhole.

Licking her bottom lip, she stared off towards the trees.

"Malark-"

"who was it, Murph?" He whispered.

Murphy, God, she didn't want to say.

Every muscle in her body clenched.

"Skip and Penk". She swallowed, "I'm sorry, Malark, I – they're dead".

Malarkey froze for a moment, stilling like a statue. He felt numb. Too numb to cry, feel much of anything. And his mouth opened, "how'd…it…happen?" He asked, voice but a whisper.

Murphy cleared her throat, "eh – shelling. They were in their foxhole, calling for Luz to come over, he was caught in the open".

She paused, looking at Malarkey.

He gave her a nod, rocking back and forth very slightly, while he put his hands over his face.

"The – the shell hit their foxhole, Malark". Murphy whispered, watching him closely. Though, it was hard, believe that. Imagine telling your friend, their best friend just died. No pain from a bullet, could come close to the pain, of watching your friend suffer so greatly on the inside.

Malarkey uncovered his face, looking away towards nothing.

He wasn't reacting, didn't cry – nothing.

Murphy placed her hand on top of his.

"Thanks, Murph. I'm fine".

She nodded quickly, "I know – I". Reaching into her pocket, Murphy placed the rosary beads into his hands, "here you go, Malark. These belong to you".

Malarkey looked down at the beads, stilling again.

Murphy had to leave him, he wanted to be alone.

Giving his arm a squeeze, she carefully got up.

The news spread quickly around Easy, while she was speaking with Malarkey, everyone found out about Muck and Penkala. Murphy had never seen so many tears, in all her life. It was heart breaking, everyone was crying. Everyone. Malarkey wasn't, Murphy wasn't but they were crying for them.

But crying most of all, was Jackson.

Murphy didn't tell him about Hughes, he stumbled upon his body while she was talking with Malarkey. She should have told him but those words, they got caught in her throat. The pain of losing Hughes, was like a dark cloud above her head. It was like getting hit by a bullet, which went straight into her heart, leaving her weak in the knees.

How was she going to make this right?

Well, Murphy needed to see Jackson.

"Jack".

Jackson looked at her. "I'm sorry, Sarge".

She shook her head, "it's okay, pal".

And he broke down once again, hand covering his face.

Murphy sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

He placed his head on top of her helmet.

And she just sat there, holding him until Jackson finished crying.

When he finished, Murphy placed her hand on his shoulder.

"We're moving back to our old positions overlooking Foy". She told him, "what I need you to do now, is pack up everything and keep moving. You understand?"

He sniffed, wiping his face. "Yes, Sarge".

"Good, lad".

Murphy got back onto her feet.

Yeah, they had to keep moving. As hard as it was, it had to be done.

Their job wasn't over, not until all those Germans in Foy were gone.

And when they got back into their old positions, once again, things had to go back to normal.

Murphy put Jackson with Bain, while she helped them reinforce their foxhole.

Malarkey, he wasn't doing at all that well.

Lipton had headed up to CP, informing Winters of what happened.

Of course, Winters had offered Malarkey to be his runner for a few day's, but he refused.

They didn't have a Platoon officer, he was in charge and Malarkey knew he couldn't leave his guys behind. If that doesn't show courage, then what does?

Easy were all very close to their breaking point, the Normandy veterans especially. They had all done, in total, 116 days out in combat, that included Normandy, Holland and now, Belgium.

Everyone was close to breaking down.

Murphy didn't know guys were worried about her too.

Maybe because she didn't tell anyone about Hughes.

She was busy, digging into her foxhole, the same one she and Toye shared.

Lipton got in beside her, grabbing the spare shovel.

"Need a hand?"

"Alright".

Lipton started to dig out the snow and mud, which had caved in during a hit. He looked over at Murphy from time to time, trying to work out how she was feeling, just by looking at her. It was a hard task, Murphy always had such an impassive look about her.

"Why're you looking at me, Lip?" She asked, feeling his gaze flicker every now and then.

Lipton sighed, halting his digging. "Murph – you didn't tell us about-"

"no, I didn't". Murphy cut him off, "it's fine".

"Is it?" He asked, not sounding so sure.

She stopped digging, staring down at the snow.

Lipton frowned, "if you need help, that's okay".

Murphy shook her head, "I don't need help".

"We're a little worried about you, Murph". He said, "I'm not 'gonna lie".

Frowning a little, she looked up at him.

"Look – uh – Johnny got a letter from Bill. He's 'gonna read it out to everyone at CP tonight. You should come along and hear it".

Murphy, for a moment, felt her knees shake. "He's alive?"

Lipton nodded, "of course, Murph. It's Bill we're talking about".

Her knees gave out, she landed on the snow.

Lipton crouched in front of her, "Murph?"

Taking in a shuddering breath, she looked at him.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "okay?"

 _No._

Murphy gave him a tiny nod.

Lipton squeezed her shoulder, "let's finish this up".

Later on, mostly everyone was gathered around CP, while Martin took out a letter.

 _"Dear John,_

 _Holy cow, I can't believe we got out of that alive. I tell you, I thought I was a goner, pulling Joe back and towards a Goddamn foxhole. Anyway, they took me to Bastogne, the aid station was rough, I ain't 'gonna lie, no point in that. Medics tried to get out all the shrapnel as best they could and stop all the bleeding. I couldn't use the lower part of my body, so they put me next to this kid who couldn't use his upper body. Now, I'm in this hospital in Paris. Ain't seen much of Joe, can't get around, you know? But he's there, can hear him down the corridor._

 _I need to know how my guys are, how Murph's doing. Keep an eye on her and Babe, right? Those two little micks, they'll pull a fast one on you, John. I tell you, they're touble makers. Nah, I'm kidding! They're alright, don't tell them that I'm proud of them, huh? It'll only get to their heads._

 _What's going on with my Platoon anyway? Malark in charge? He's a good guy, he'll sort them all out, keep them busy. John, I was mad when I got taken off, you know? I didn't want to leave my guys, Joe didn't either. We're both pissed off for leaving, you know? I'll miss being Wild Bill-"_

Martin, to everyone's surprise, burst out into tears.

And he quickly walked off, before anyone could say anything.

Biting her lip, Murphy picked up the letter.

 _"I'll miss being Wild Bill and giving the guys holy hell. You sit here and think you've let everyone down, you know? When you're in pain, you're just lying there, with your own thoughts. I try and lighten the mood, the kid who was next to me, we kept each other busy. He told me about his time in the war, I told him about mine._

 _Hey, remember those tattoos? Man, Murph was sure pissed as hell. We were as drunk as sixteen skunks! I'll never forget her face that morning, she looked shocked as hell. Don't think I've ever seen her look so scared. We took it like cool-hands, huh? Trying to calm this little Irish down, tell her it was only a picture. That still cracks me up, John. We sure did a lot of crazy shit together._

 _Here's another thing. Just came to me, thought I'd educate you. Boyle's wedding, back in England. It wasn't Smitty who set off those smoke grenades-"_

Murphy cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact.

 _"well, I say Murph did it, but she only came along for the ride. I told her, grab those smoke grenades, she was like, why? Man, it was funny, John, never seen a look like it. That bride, she didn't know what hit her!"_

The others chuckled very quietly and softly at that.

Murphy's lips twitched at the memory.

 _"Anyway, John. Write back to me, you hear? I need to know how my guys are doing. Miss those stupid micks._

 _Your pal, Bill"._

Murphy folded up the letter, placing it inside her pocket.

The guys, they looked a little brighter now.

Even she felt a little spark come back to her.

And even though he wasn't with them, Guarnere had really saved the morale that day.

That dark cloud above her head, it had turned grey.

When the guys started to clear off, Murphy remained.

She found Winters eyes, who were staring back at her.

Slowly, she walked over to him.

Winters swallowed, placing his hand on the side of her face.

Murphy closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

It tore him up inside. He felt terrible. And he didn't know what to say.

Sometimes, you didn't have to say anything to comfort someone.

And words like; I'm sorry. They didn't hold a lot of meaning out here. Not to someone who had seen too many friends die or get blown-up in the worst possible way. It was better not to say anything. But Murphy, she opened her eyes again.

"I'm going to fix this".

Winters tilted his head to the side.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "it's 'gonna be fine".

The trouble was, they were looking for officers within the Company.

And with that cloud grey, Murphy's mind had slightly opened.

Dike was going to lead the attack on Foy, they couldn't stop that.

But they all knew that man was going to crack under pressure. He ran from shelling's, leaving his men to suffer and pick up the pieces. Really, he wasn't worth talking about. The more they talked about Dike, the worse they felt about having a CO who didn't care about them. Murphy could think of better officers, everyone thought about Buck first, who was capable of leading the Company but with him gone, they didn't have any alternatives in Easy.

But within the 506, there were other officers. One in particular they all feared, though respected. Lieutenant Ronald Speirs, a rifle squad Platoon leader. He was always popping up unexpectedly, perhaps frightened some of the enlisted guys. Plenty of rumours travelled with that man, shooting down twenty prisoners on D-day, shooting one of his own guys because he was drunk out on patrol. Those stories didn't matter, not to Murphy.

So, when she passed Easy lines, Fox and ended up in Dog Company, they were all a little surprised to see her. Murphy would have been too, if she were them. It was quite the stretch to reach this side of the line, if not a little dangerous. But she didn't care.

"What are you doing here?" One of them asked.

Murphy looked at him, rubbing the side of her face.

"Oh, shit…".

"Steve?" She whispered, "you're that guy who took out my filling on the ship".

He huffed, "man, you ain't dead yet?"

Murphy shook her head, "Lieutenant Speirs around?"

Steve nodded, "yeah, I'll take you to him – man, sure is weird seeing you again".

"Yeah, sure is".

Speirs was talking with a couple of enlisted men, when Steve and Murphy approached him.

"Sir? Sargent Flynn is here to see you".

"Who?" He asked, sharply turning around.

"Uh – from Easy Company, sir". Steve said to him, sounding a little nervous.

Murphy didn't bat an eyelid.

Speirs looked at her, "what'd you want, Sargent?"

"A word, sir". She said, voice even.

He could have told her to, "piss off", but he didn't.

Speirs nodded, "I'll walk you back to your line, let's go".

They started to walk down Dog's line of resistance. Murphy crossed her arms.

"Well?" Speirs asked, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Right". She said quietly, "you – eh – you know we're attacking Foy, sir?"

"I'm aware, yes".

Murphy cleared her throat, "do you know about Lieutenant Dike, sir?"

"Your CO?" Speirs asked, "no, not much".

There was a silence, while their feet crunched against the snow.

Murphy didn't want to share too much with him.

Because despite Dike, they still had the best NCO's.

"Um – we might need help, sir". Murphy worded carefully, "during the attack".

Speirs shook his head, "I can't help you, Sargent. I have my own men to watch".

"Right". Murphy sighed quietly, "yeah – I know, sir".

He looked down at her, "I'm sure you'll all be okay".

That cloud, it turned dark again.

Murphy stopped walking, staring down at her boots.

Speirs stopped walking, turning to face her.

There was a horrible weight on her shoulders and her chest tightened.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed a hand down her face.

Speirs cleared his throat, staring at this girl, feeling a little awkward.

He didn't know her, he didn't even know she existed. And here she was, standing before him, asking for help because she was desperate to save her friends, the ones that remained. And for Murphy, it had been a very trying week. Her next sigh, it was shaky.

"It won't be". Murphy mumbled, "okay – it's – it's not going to be okay".

Speirs eyes had softened, just a little. Because he did feel for her, they had all lost someone, and some even lost hope. He figured maybe she had lost hope too.

Her hands left her face, "but it's okay, that you can't help us, sir". Murphy said, "I understand".

Nodding, Speirs cleared his throat. "Let's get you back, Sargent".

So, Speirs couldn't help them.

Murphy didn't know what else to do.

Jackson was hunkered down with Bain still, Malarkey close by.

Moving past 2nd Platoon, she headed up towards 1st, wanting to check in on Martin.

He was in his foxhole, Bull was beside him.

Sighing, Murphy sat on the edge.

"How're you, Johnny?"

He exhaled shakily, shaking his head.

"Yeah, me too". Murphy whispered.

"Hashey's out". Bull mumbled, "got hit, he's getting evacuated".

"Jesus". She mumbled, "Garcia okay?"

"Fine". He nodded, "your boy?"

Murphy bit down on her lip, looking away from them. "Fine".

Martin looked at her, "Murph? Why don't you see Winters, huh?"

"No". She replied quickly, "no – he's busy, pal".

"He ain't". He said, "I just saw him, he's back at CP".

She didn't respond. Seeing Winters, God, she was scared to see him.

"Murph, don't avoid him". Bull gave her boot a kick, "come on, he's worried about you".

Murphy rubbed the back of her neck and got up, "fine".

Martin gave her the smallest of smiles, "you'll be fine, Murph".

Oh, this wasn't going to be fine.

Murphy knew that as soon as she saw him.

Ducking under the CP tent, Murphy leaned against the pillar, like she usually would.

She took off her helmet, putting it to the side.

Winters poured her a cup of coffee, placing it into her hands.

And as soon as the warmth hit her frozen hands, she could feel a crack in the wall.

Murphy stared down at the hot liquid, steam warming her face.

Strange, she thought about Aaron Keith.

He took his own life in Toccoa, he avoided all of this.

And that life with Winters on the farm, it was fading away from her.

It would have been so easy to take a gun, shoot your own foot and leave.

Jackson could join a better squad, he'd be fine.

Her friends would be alright.

What about Winters?

Murphy looked up at him, he was staring at her.

"Stay with me tonight".

He was worried about her, that was obvious.

Murphy nodded, "okay". She croaked.

There was silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry". She whispered, face falling.

"Sorry – what are you talking about, sweetheart?"

Murphy put the coffee down, "I can't fix it".

Winters closed the distance between them, "it's not your job to-"

"it's my job to protect my friends". She said, "and I can't protect them".

Swallowing, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "We can't save everyone".

"No, I know". Murphy whispered, "I just – I wish we saved them".

His hand fell onto the side of her face, "I'm not losing you, Murphy".

"It's hard". She admitted, voice sounding close to breaking.

Winters heart dropped.

"It's so – it's hard".

Murphy looked at him, hoping his eyes would help solve everything.

But they didn't, not this time.

She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Sweetheart". Winters whispered, wrapping his arms around her.

Murphy, who's walls were slowly starting to fall apart, pressed her face against his chest.

Her arms were locked securely around his waist.

Maybe not today, not tomorrow but on the third day – she just didn't know anymore.

And she was terrified.

Murphy's eyes were wide open, while she watched the snow fall.

Winters was running his fingers through her hair. He kissed the top of her head.

She swallowed, ad buried her face into his chest again. "Love you".

Her voice was muffled into his jacket.

His smile was small and sad, "love you too, Murphy".

Pulling away from the embrace, Murphy stood on the balls of her feet, kissing him softly.

Winters wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her back.

And soon, her arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling them closer together.

With each passing second with Winters, that corner of the universe, their corner, it started to get brighter and reachable. Murphy pushed him up against the pillar, kissing him more fiercely now, while her hands grabbed the back of his hair.

That wall…it wasn't going to break. She just needed to be close with him.

Because Foy, that was going to kill her, Murphy was sure of it.

This moment, she had to make it count.

And they did, right under the CP tent.

Winters had her up against the pillar, while they shared love beyond words.

It was bittersweet.

Murphy always treasured these moments but would hate it to be their last.

And she made it very clear to him, that it had to count.

She pushed his hair back, tears in her eyes.

Winters frowned, "Murphy?"

Swallowing, Murphy blinked, one rolled down her cheek.

He wiped it away with his thumb.

"If something happens to me". She whispered after a moment of silence, "know that I don't regret anything, that I don't regret joining Easy". Murphy said, "and loving you, is the best thing that's ever happened to me".

Winters closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Love, can you promise me that?"

He gave a tiny nod.

"Thank you".

Murphy kissed his shoulder.

Knowing that even in death, she would never stop loving him.


	36. Chapter 36

Charge across an open, snow covered field of some 200 metres in length down into Foy, where the Germans had the best possible cover with buildings and the likes. All they had to do was charge into that town with full aggression and push the enemy back, the same guys who had killed most of their friends for almost a month. It sounded simple, really. Just run, hit and miss.

Winters had set-up two machine-guns facing Foy.

Easy were attacking along the western edge.

3rd Battalion were coming in from the east, led by I Company.

Leading 2nd Platoon was Lipton, they were out of an officer and Malarkey would have done fine but of course, he had to lead the mortar-men for this attack, and they'd need good mortars for this one.

No one was confident about this attack, not really. It was hard to be confident with a guy like Dike leading it and with all the great men they had lost.

Murphy was sitting with Jackson, while Winters briefed Dike.

"Murph?" Jackson whispered.

"Yeah, Jack?"

"Are we 'gonna die?"

Murphy shrugged, "I don't know". She said, "you won't".

Jackson frowned, "how'd you know that?"

"Because, I'm not losing you".

Murphy didn't see Speirs amongst the other officers.

Even Sink turned up for this one.

And Nixon.

But Speirs wasn't here.

Rubbing her lips together, she took hold of her rifle.

"He just yawned again". Heffron muttered to them. "Fucking, Dike did".

"He always yawns". Murphy mumbled.

It was time to move out and like always, 1st were in the lead.

2nd were running behind, with 3rd at the back.

So far, covering fire, the two machine-guns Winters had deployed, were giving them excellent and effective covering fire, while they ran across the open field. Jackson was right behind Murphy, though they all spread out, because Germans would pour it down on them. If they bashed in together like sardines, everyone would get hit.

But running with all your equipment, through a foot of snow, it was difficult.

Still, the firing from the Germans kept you going.

Though, they didn't bring out anything too heavy yet.

The Germans were firing out with rifles, from windows in the houses.

Whenever you got a chance, you had to fire at them while running.

Murphy fired back, not sure if she was hitting Jerry, or just a brick wall.

Jackson fired too, at least they weren't giving up.

Lipton was keeping 2nd Platoon moving, hollering at them, to keep going.

Lipton had always been good at getting everyone moving, from the get-go. Even in Toccoa, he'd be the one waking you up, shouting at you to get ready quickly before Winters or Sobel came in for inspection.

So, when you heard that man yell, you knew you had to move quickly.

Some guys got hit along the way, falling down into the snow. And you just had to ignore it, there wasn't anything else to do. If you stopped, you were dead. Murphy remembered Sobel telling them not to help anyone who was down, she was starting to see some logic behind it. But if one of her friends went down, she'd probably drag them towards cover.

Dike was running between 3rd and 2nd, yelling for everyone to keep moving.

So far, so good. The man was doing his job, despite being useless before hand.

Murphy actually thought it might be okay after all.

Ah, but she spoke to soon.

Seventy-five yards into their run, someone was yelling.

"Hold up!"

Lipton then yelled, "2nd Platoon, hold up!"

And everyone stopped, right in the middle of the field.

 **Boom!**

The Germans unleashed their 88's, as well as their MG42's.

Murphy looked over at Lipton, who was looking around, trying to spot Dike.

Dammit, their CO had given them that order.

"Fine some cover!" Lipton yelled.

The Germans were firing at them, they were an open target.

Dirt and snow poured up from the ground.

They were covered in the stuff.

Jackson had taken cover with others, behind a hay-bale.

Like hell, if Murphy was leaving Lipton by himself.

"Murph – on me!"

Getting up, the pair of them sprinted towards another hay-bale, while the rest of 2nd took some cover. Heffron came along with them, Jim by his side. Good, they were going to give them some much needed covering fire while they sorted all this shit out.

It was absolute madness.

Everyone was gathered around Dike, demanding what the plan was.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Dike screamed, utterly frozen with fear.

"Lieutenant, what's the plan?!" Foley asked.

"I don't know! I don't know!"

And Murphy heard a very familiar voice on Luz's radio.

"You better get Dike on that radio right now!"

And boy, was Winters pissed.

"Captain Winters, sir!" Luz was offering Dike the radio.

Everyone was asking him again;

"what's the plan, Lieutenant?"

And Dike was looking from one face to another, it was like watching a tennis match.

Back and forth his eyes went, until the ball dropped.

"Okay, okay!" Dike yelled, "Foley! Take your – take your men on a flanking mission around the village and attack it from the rear!"

Murphy frowned; that was a terrible plan.

Lipton snapped again, "we cannot stay here!"

"You want 1st Platoon to go around and attack the village by itself?" Foley asked, in disbelief.

"We will provide suppressing fire". Dike said.

"We're 'gonna be kind of alone out there, Lieutenant".

"We will provide suppressing fire!"

Murphy blinked, looking over at Lipton.

With Foley now gone, a machine-gun ripped open and took down Mellet.

Fuck.

Murphy gave Heffron a tap on the shoulder, "we're 'gonna be pinned down like 1st!"

"What'd we do?!" Heffron asked.

She shook her head, "can you spot the sniper?!"

"I'll keep looking!"

"You need to talk to Captain Winters, sir!" Luz told him again.

"Lip! They've got 1st pinned!" Murphy had leaned over Dike to tell him.

Lipton nodded, "suppressing fire, now!"

Murphy gave Heffron another clapped on the shoulder, "now, Babe!"

She got on the other side of him, firing out her rifle.

It was hard to spot alerted target's, but it was a good thing they had radios between each Platoon because with 2nd and 1st, they were able to spot one of the snipers. Which was in the building with the caved in roof. Lipton told Murphy, she told Heffron, and they started to try and take that guy down. However, they were going to need something a lot heavier than a machine-gun it seemed, this guy wasn't budging.

"Can't get him, Murph!" Heffron told her.

"Change direction!" She said, "get those other arses firing at 1st!"

With Heffron and Jim sorted, Murphy took back cover.

She needed to find out what the hell was going on now.

"Sir, we are sitting ducks here. We have to keep moving!" Lipton screamed.

And you knew how serious this was, when Lipton was genuinely mad.

Murphy had never seen the guy so red.

She could imagine it now, Winters going mental, trying to race across the field to take over. But of course, he wasn't allowed, he was a Battalion Commander, not a Company Commander.

As of right now, they were doing all they could from this position to help out 1st.

But low and behold, Speirs came running down that field, while 88's was fired at him.

And he seemed to jump over them, like he was leaping over a puddle.

He must have shown up, Winters probably told him to take over.

It was going to be okay.

And Speirs just sort of looked at Dike before saying, "I'm taking over".

Heffron raised an eyebrow, looking over at Murphy.

"1st Sargent Lipton!" Speirs made his way to him, "what have we got?"

"Sir, most of the Company are spread out here. 1st tried an end around but they're stretched out, they're pinned down by a sniper. I believe he's in the building with the caved in roof".

"Alright, I want mortars and grenade launchers on that building 'till it's gone. When it's gone, I want 1st to go straight in, forget about going around, everybody else, follow me".

Murphy sighed; thank God for that.

As soon as that sniper was down, everyone advanced towards the town.

It was like charging horses. All that pent-up anger, all that aggression, it came firing out of them. No one cared about getting hit, they just wanted to kill those Germans. They just wanted to show them, that they still had it in them. And did those Germans not just get the shock of their life when Easy Company charged right into them.

They blasted into houses and buildings, clearing out any Germans inside.

Jackson and Murphy had a field day.

She had lost count on how many Germans she shot that day.

Kicking in doors, using grenades, mortars, machine-guns – Easy used everything they had.

Because they thought after Foy, they'd be given some much needed relief.

So, they didn't hold back.

However, that wasn't the case. After taking Foy, early in the afternoon, a film crew came around to capture their victory. The guys were sitting on Panzer tanks, cheering and singing songs. While some helped move the wounded. But it seemed they had forgotten just one sniper, who wasn't quite finished with them.

The sniper got one other guy, who was sitting on the tank.

Everyone got down and took cover.

In order to get this sniper, Lipton had to run out in the open.

And with just one shot, Shifty got the sniper down.

Relief set in and they all applauded Shifty Powers.

…

Easy and the other Companies in 2nd Battalion were put into regimental reserve south of the village. They were told to dig in, sit tight and wait. Fine by them, they could have all used a sit down after that ordeal. Murphy helped Jackson dig a foxhole. They were back in a dense forest again, just like old times and the weather was terrible. It was snowing once again and absolutely freezing.

Once again, they were low on food and winter clothing.

Murphy still hadn't picked up a jacket.

Despite all that, she made sure to check in on some of the wide-eyed replacements, who had made it out of Foy. God knows how, but they did.

"Murph". Malarkey called her over.

She walked towards him, hands under her armpits. "Yeah, Malark?"

He gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, "you still 'wanna be a squad leader for Heffron and Jim?"

Murphy nodded, with a tiny smile. "You bet".

"Good, cause that replacements being transferred. He wasn't the only one who froze".

"We got lucky out there". She mumbled, "good thing Speirs popped up, eh?"

"Yeah…you hear what he did?"

Murphy shook his head, "what?"

Malarkey snorted, "so, we needed to hook-up with I Company, right? Speirs was with Lip and Luz when this happened. The man say's; wait here. And then he just runs out in front of all these Germans, to get to I Company, climbs over this wall and gets them".

Murphy raised an eyebrow, "Jesus".

"Yeah but wait". He told her, "so, he's hooked-up with I Company, right? Crazy man, he jumped back over that wall and runs back – can you believe it?!"

What made her smile, was Malarkey.

He never sounded so vibrant.

"He saved the day, Malark". She said softly, "Winters say anything?"

He shook his head, "not yet, they're having a meeting up at HQ with Sink".

"Well, maybe Speirs will be given a new job".

Malarkey smiled a little, "yeah…after all those rumours, huh?"

"Rumours?"

"Ah – don't start, Murph".

She chuckled quietly, "that was funny. Did you believe me?"

Malarkey shook his head, "God, no. You're a terrible liar".

"Hey, you two". Lipton soon joined them, "men all sorted?"

"Yeah, they're digging in, Lip". Malarkey said to him, "was just telling Murph about Speirs".

"I Company?" Even Lipton was smiling, "crazy stuff, huh?"

Murphy sighed, "you know, I'm not even that surprised".

"Well, according to Captain Winters, Speirs was just standing beside him". Lipton said, "Winters has no idea why he was even there to begin with".

She hummed, "one of lives mysteries, eh? Guess it was just meant to be".

"Yeah…he said something about Dog being in reserve but, it was last minute".

Malarkey shrugged, "what matters is, Speirs took over and got the show going".

Lipton smiled at the pair of them, "you two alright?"

"We're fine – huh, Murph?"

Smiling, Murphy nodded and clapped Malarkey's shoulder. "Yeah, we're good, Lip".

A meeting was held up at HQ that night.

Sink asked Winters, "what are you 'gonna do about Company E?"

"Relieve Lieutenant Dike and put Lieutenant Speirs in command".

And Sink agreed, the meeting ended. All the principle parties who took part in Foy walked back towards the south, where Easy and the rest were hunkered down for the night. Winters had the job of telling Speirs the news. He said.

"How would you like to Command Easy Company?"

Speirs nodded, "I would like that very much".

"Good". He remarked quietly, "they'll be happy to have you".

He snorted softly, "I wouldn't have even shown up".

"I've been meaning to ask about that". Winters said, "what – uh – what were you doing?"

Speirs looked at him, "I had a Sargent from Easy approach me, few days before the attack".

He frowned and tilted his head to the side, "who?"

In his mind, he thought Lipton. Because the day before the attack, Lipton had come forward to Winters, expressing concerns regarding Dike.

But he was wrong, it wasn't Lipton at all.

"Uh – Sargent Flynn". He said, "a female – I – I had no idea. But she didn't beg, she sounded a little…defeated".

Sighing through his nose, Winters nodded. "Thank you, Speirs".

The Lieutenant nodded, "right – I'll let them know, sir".

And he was about to walk away, before Speirs added.

"I said I couldn't help at first".

Winters turned to face him.

Speirs sighed softly, "but I thought, if a guy – or female, from Easy approached me, then it must be serious". He shrugged a little, "I had a change of heart".

His lips twitched, "thank you".

Nodding again, Speirs turned back around and continued down the line.

Easy were all informed that night of Speirs.

A lot of them were relieved. Finally, they got rid of Dike.

At 0415 the next morning, the Germans launched a counterattack on Foy.

However, 3rd Battalion managed to push them back with the help of artillery.

And by 0930, they had the village back.

So, Easy and the rest of 2nd Battalion were ordered the attack on Noville, a larger village, just down the road. It had been their objective since they first dug-in at Bastogne but still a shock nonetheless, what happened to Mourmelon? Hot shower, a bed, hot food? And Noville required another risky approached, with an open field. Still, they set off through the snow, with 1st Battalion advancing forward to their left.

Soon, 1st Battalion went under German 88's.

But 2nd Battalion soon encountered problems of their own.

Machine-guns from Noville opened up, ripping down their column.

Speirs got Heffron and another machine-gun squad set up, while Easy advanced through a small stream. It was narrow enough to jump over, though Garcia ended up falling in, soaking his uniform.

Oh, that was never good out in the cold.

Upon crossing that stream, they neared the open field.

And a horse was lying on the ground, its leg shattered by shell fragments.

Such was a sight which broke everyone's heart.

The horse was in so much pain, one of their Sargent's putting it out of its misery, was the kindest thing to do.

But they couldn't stop to think about the suffering of innocent animals. They had to keep going.

By 1530 hours, Easy had crossed the field.

They were tucked up under a deep shoulder of land and waited.

There wasn't anything to do but wait until that attack tomorrow morning.

And by dark, you wouldn't believe how cold it got. Everyone was shivering, it was the coldest night of the war, it really was. And Heffron approached Murphy that night, a look of defeat across his face.

"W-what?" She asked, through chattering teeth.

"W-word".

Nodding, Murphy got up and they walked a few feet away from the others.

Heffron, showed her his hands.

Taking her hands out of her pockets, she held them.

He hissed in pain.

Murphy frowned, "can you c-clench your h-hand?"

He shook his head, lowering it in shame.

She sighed, "c-come with m-me".

Murphy got Gene up. It turned out, it wasn't just Heffron's hands, his feet were turning black too. Murphy could have slapped him for not telling her before it got this bad, but he was already in enough pain as it was. So, she took Heffron to Malarkey, who gave them the all-clear and she soon ended up with Speirs.

"Christ". He said, "you can't hold your gun. You need to head to the hospital".

Murphy saw to it that Heffron was on the back of a jeep.

"I'll be back soon, Murph".

And she believed him.

"See you, Babe".

When the jeep left, heading down a very narrow road. Murphy grimaced, hoping they'd make it alright. And she turned to make her way back – Winters was there.

She smiled a little, walking over to him.

"Murphy Flynn". He greeted softly.

"Yes, Dick Winters?"

He bit down on his lip, trying to suppress a smile.

Murphy wrapped her arms around his waist.

Sighing, Winters placed his hands on the side of her face.

"You're brilliant". He whispered, "and always continue to surprise me. I think I find another thing I love about you every single day".

Murphy frowned, confused.

Smiling, Winters kissed her softly.

"You talked with Speirs".

"Oh, that?" Murphy mumbled softly, "that was – well, I'm not sure".

Winters kissed her again.

She smiled small into the kiss.

"Are you that impressed?"

"Yes". Winters whispered, "I almost went out there myself".

"I figured you would".

He shook his head, "Sink wouldn't let me".

"Yeah, I thought that might happen". Murphy looked up at him, "let's just not think about Foy, ever again".

Winters sighed, "I'm pretty pissed off-"

"what the – Dick!" She gaped, "you never curse".

"Yeah, well – desperate times". He muttered, "I don't know why they want Easy to lead the attack, it wasn't my call and they're all very excited, it's highly annoying".

Face softening, Murphy stood on the balls of her feet, kissing his cheek. "It's going to be fine".

"You're probably right". He said softly, "but you were wrong about Foy".

She frowned a little, looking back at him.

"You didn't leave me". Winters whispered, "you came back to me".

"I did". Murphy said, "I was in a – my head was shot".

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

Rubbing her lips together, Murphy sighed. "You know that Hughes-". She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "Jesus – well, I was just…I was all over the place".

Winters stared at her, face showing the hurt she felt inside.

"I tell you". She said, "I tell you – I'll never be able to say it".

"Say what?" He asked her, very quietly.

Murphy looked away from him, staring at nothing.

"Murphy". Winters placed his hand back on the side of her face.

"The hardest thing I had to do". She croaked, "was tell Malark that he lost his best friend". Murphy felt her eyes burn with unleashed tears, "the hardest – God, it just…the look on his face, I'll never be able to explain it, Dick. I just wanted a happy ending for him because he's always making sure we have one".

That tugged on his heart.

Murphy closed her eyes for a moment, while her face threatened to crumble.

"Sometimes". She whispered, "watching your friend suffer, is harder than going through pain yourself. You know what I mean?"

Winters cleared his throat, "I do".

Murphy opened her eyes, looking back at him.

His smiled wavered, "they're lucky to have you, Murphy".

She shook her head, "not as lucky as me".

…

They took the town of Noville with little resistance and after that, Rachamps.

Currently, Easy were sitting inside a convent.

It was the first time they had spent the night inside in over a month.

The sisters of the convent brought in their choir to sing for them.

The mood was relaxed, it was beautiful.

Heffron had joined them, just as they were reaching Rachamps, he went AWOL.

Murphy was glad to see him.

The men smoked, talked quietly and slept.

Jackson had fallen asleep as soon as he sat down. His head was resting against the wall, mouth open and catching flies. Beside her, Heffron had his feet up on the bench in front of him. And Malarkey was in front, beside Grant, just staring off into space. She could imagine he was thinking about Muck, who would have loved this. And he probably would have. Hughes might had done as well, they knew Toye and Guarnere would have.

120 officers and enlisted men came into Bastogne. And only 60 were left.

Murphy couldn't believe she was one of the sixty left.

Such a small number.

And that small number expected some relief after this, back to Mourmelon. They deserved it, God, out of the entire Army, Easy deserved some rest.

Out there in the woods, it felt like Easy were up against the whole of Germany.

In this convent, it was like the war stopped.

Murphy reached inside her pocket, pulling out an envelope.

God, she almost forgot about this.

Tearing it open, Murphy brought out the letter.

But she didn't get a chance to read it because a photo fell out.

It was a photo of her mother and twin brothers, smiling and standing outside a beautiful house. Murphy stared at that photo for a good few minutes, feeling her whole-body shake. There was a horrible tightness in her chest, a hard lump in her throat. She couldn't swallow back the lump, not this time. Tears were in her eyes and she felt that wall, start to crumble, brick by brick.

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy closed her eyes.

Jesus Christ.

That was a terrible idea.

But like most times, Murphy held it together.

For now.

But her breaking point…she was so very close to the edge.


	37. Chapter 37

No relief came for Easy the next morning.

Hitler had launched a counteroffensive, they were set for the town of Hagenau to hold the line. It was a low blow, nobody was happy. No one smiled, or even spoke much, while they got onto the back of these trucks, which had no roofs and it was snowing. The weather was miserable, matching their current mood. And they were all beyond exhausted by this point. God, they just needed two nights of full sleep and they'd be fine.

You know, they really could have used Toye's singing by this point.

Murphy stared blankly over at the bench opposite her.

Christ, they had lost too many guys.

They didn't fill up the benches.

Lipton had gotten sick while they were put on reserve. He went to see a medic, who said he had pneumonia. The doctor told him to stay at the aid station, Lipton refused, he was 1st Sargent, couldn't afford to take a day off. The doctor told him to stop by in the morning, they had already left by that point.

Like most days, Murphy worried about Malarkey.

She never asked if he was okay because every time she did he would say; "I'm fine, quit worrying". But he just never gave her the impression that he was in fact, "fine". Sometimes he would smile, and she'd relax but eight times out of ten, that man wasn't smiling.

In this truck, they had Liebgott, Heffron, Malarkey on one side.

Jackson, Murphy, Grant, McClung and Popeye on the other.

There weren't much Toccoa and Holland guys left.

"Murph?" Grant gave her arm a tiny nudge. "Heard anything from Bill or Joe?"

She shook her head, "not yet, no".

"I got a letter from Joe". Malarkey said to them, "they're cutting into his leg again, for the fourth time".

Murphy sighed, "and?"

"Said if it's not successful then…well, you know".

Swallowing, she looked down at her knees.

"I'm not worried". Malarkey said, "he'll be fine".

Silence followed after that.

It was a very quiet journey back to France.

They needed a shower, something hot to eat, new uniforms and Christ – a bed.

Murphy had managed to survive thus far, with just a thin jacket, a scarf and finger-less gloves. She had no idea how she and the others did that. Jackson had lost his winter jacket during Noville. She had a right go at him for ten solid minutes, but he never did try to find another one.

"Murph? You got smokes?"

"Yup – here".

Murphy tossed Heffron a packet of cigarettes.

"Hey, guys!"

What the hell; who was chipper?

Murphy looked around the truck because bloody hell, someone sounded overly-happy.

They were nearing the town, Hagenau. And like most cases, they were relieving another outfit. And they could hear the distant sounds of explosions coming from across the Moder River.

"Some Lieutenant told me to report to 2nd!"

She leaned forwards, wanting to check out who this guy was.

It was probably a replacement, which meant there would be more waiting for them in town. Murphy couldn't be bothered with replacements, no one could. They had all arrived when the war was dying down, just itching to get some combat before it all ended.

But no, this wasn't just some replacement. It was David Webster.

And he smiled, looking at all the faces, giving him a blank stare in return.

It was very awkward.

"Your names Jackson, right?" Webster asked him.

Murphy's eyes flickered towards Jackson.

"That's right". He responded flatly.

"Who's leading the Platoon?"

Murphy didn't know why she was suddenly so defensive.

Why was Webster asking Jackson? Why not someone else?

"Sargent Malarkey is".

"What, not officers?"

Shaking her head, Murphy leaned back against the bench.

Wanker. She thought.

"I guess you didn't here". Liebgott said.

"No, what's that?" Webster asked, voice still light – though, he was no longer smiling.

Liebgott wasn't even looking at him, "they're making Malarkey a Lieutenant. He's on the fast track now".

Murphy raised an eyebrow.

"Really? That's great". Webster mumbled.

"Yeah, isn't it?"

"Yeah".

Webster didn't care, he just wanted on the truck.

Putting his bag in first, he then said; "Jackson, help me up, will you?"

They all shimmied down the bench, making room for Webster.

Murphy's eyes flickered towards Malarkey, who wasn't giving Webster the time of day. He didn't like him, which was fine. Murphy was indifferent. They were all indifferent about Webster. Jackson and Liebgott were the only ones who asked him questions.

"So, uh…you come from the hospital?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah".

Liebgott smirked and looked away, "must have liked that hospital. Cause – uh – we left Holland four months ago".

Webster was back to smiling again, "well, I wasn't there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot-"

"well, I'm sure you tried to bust out and help us in Bastonge, Web".

Murphy cleared her throat. The truck suddenly felt very tense.

"I don't know how I would have done that". Webster said.

God, he had to stop smiling. He was pissing them off.

"That's funny". Liebgott said.

It wasn't funny.

"Cause Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right, back in Holland?"

Heffron nodded from beside him.

"And Guarnere… and-"

"yeah, where is Guarnere?" Webster asked. "He still your Platoon Sargent?"

Murphy closed her eyes for a moment.

Well, if Guarnere was here, he'd be leading the Platoon – not Malarkey.

Jackson sighed, "no".

The truck then stopped.

"Let's go!" Someone called from the road.

"He got hit".

Murphy got up, shouldering her rifle.

Webster wasn't smiling anymore, "yeah?"

"Yeah, Bill got hit". Heffron said, while passing him. "Blew his whole leg off".

Murphy jumped down from the truck, landing on muddy grounds.

They all moved down the street, while firing across the river continued.

"Okay, spread out". Malarkey told them all. "Hold along this line 'till I figure out where we're going".

"Sarge?" Webster followed after him.

 _ **Swoosh!**_

A mortar flew right over them, crashing into the building across the street.

While they all covered their heads, Webster dove straight onto the ground.

Well, at least he got his uniform dirty.

Some of the guys found it funny.

Murphy didn't find it funny, not at all. Webster was with them in Veghel, the crossroads battle, his head was still there, he wasn't immune to those shelling's they went through in Bastogne.

"Goddamn idiot". Heffron hissed.

Soon, they were moving up the road.

Malarkey set them up in a house, looking across the river.

A house.

It was a large house; its previous owner was a dentist. His practice was inside the house. And supposedly a Nazi, who'd fled pretty fast when he heard the Americans were coming. They had bunk-beds in the bedrooms, gas burning lamps, a working stove and a half full toilet.

Honestly, they really had it made compared to what they were used to.

"Murph". Malarkey called her over, while he was busy splicing a German field telephone, in order to keep communications with 1st Platoon and CP, who were living like Kings in a huge hotel, apparently. "Come here a second".

Putting her rifle onto the bottom bunk, she walked over to him.

"If he's in our Platoon, he's in your squad".

Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment. "Right".

Malarkey didn't look that sorry, "sorry".

"I'm sure".

She opened her eyes, looking down at the telephone.

The whole 506 had done the same with their houses.

They had set a defensive position beside the river, a house for each Platoon. It was almost like living in the roughest neighbourhood. Germans were firing at them, they fired back at them. Street fighting, Guarnere would have loved this.

"This thing working?" Murphy asked, pointing to the phone.

Malarkey shrugged, with a tiny grin. "Give it a go, Murph".

Clearing her throat, she picked up the receiver, placing it onto her ear.

She could only hear crackles, until Malarkey flicked on a switch and turned a few knobs.

There was a high-pitched ringing, Murphy grimaced.

"Jesus – that 'fecking kills. My God, what the fu-"

"who is this?" A voice asked from the other end.

Murphy's eyes widened a little, while she looked at Malarkey.

Placing her hand over the receiver, she said to him.

"Speirs – you talk to him!"

Chuckling quietly, he shook his head. "No, you picked up the phone-"

"you called CP!" Murphy hissed, "you're an arse, Donald Malarkey".

Heffron laughed and took the receiver out of her hands, before putting the phone down.

Malarkey and Murphy looked at him.

"You can't just hang-up on the Captain". She mumbled.

Heffron shrugged, "he won't know".

Some explosions soon came from outside, which caused the ceiling to rattle.

White chalk fell on their already dirty uniforms.

No one dusted it off.

"What the hell was that?" Jackson uttered quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

"Krauts had someone pinned down". Murphy mumbled.

"Good luck to them, huh?" McClung muttered.

"Call up for artillery fire". She said, "we need to strike that side".

"I'll get 1st to do it". Malarkey picked up the phone.

Few minutes later, a swoosh came from above them and the sound of their own shells bombing across the river. And then, Webster entered the room, though he wasn't alone. Lieutenant Hank Jones. Straight out of West-Point. Green and held a certain amount of cockiness. Being cocky was good, being confident was even better but being arrogant – then you're crossing a line.

Webster walked over to them both.

"Sargent, this is Lieutenant Jones". He said, "just assigned to 2nd Platoon".

"Malarkey, Platoon Sargent".

Jones held out his hand, "congratulations on the battlefield commission".

Murphy's lips broke into a tiny grin. She ducked her head.

A few of the guys behind them snorted.

Confused, Malarkey shook his hand. "The what?"

"They're making you an officer, no?"

Malarkey looked over his shoulder, at the guys who were muffling their laughter.

He shook his head, letting go of the hand shake. "Me, no. You must be thinking of 1st Sargent Lipton".

Murphy pulled a face; what was that?

"My mistake". Jones said, "so, you're without a Platoon leader?"

"No, not anymore Lieutenant".

He gave a tiny nod, "right". Jones said lightly.

There were a few moments of silence, while Malarkey finished off fixing up the phone.

No one wanted to go deaf from that high-pitched screaming from the other end.

"So, you 'wanna introduce me to the men?" Jones asked, giving him a nod.

Malarkey could have sighed, "well, some are sleeping downstairs, and the rest are right here".

Murphy shook her head, God, she loved his enthusiasm today.

"Sargent, a patrol is being planned for tonight, 0100 hours across the river".

Murphy and Malarkey both stared at this kid.

"Regiment wants P.O.W's for interrogation".

Malarkey placed a hand on Murphy's shoulder, while the three of them headed towards the window. Malarkey began to explain what the situation was to Jones. Who had asked moments ago.

"Any mortars?"

"60's outback".

"Any other patrols?"

"Fox Company took one out". Murphy said, "Babe's friend, Sargent Green, he got hit". She told him, "he's dead now".

Clearing his throat, Jones looked back out towards the window.

Her eyes flickered towards the others, who were busy fishing information from Webster.

"I take it this was already an outpost when you arrived?" Jones asked.

Malarkey lit a cigarette and hummed, nodding his head. "There were some dogies from the 79th infantry, but they left in a hurry".

"What's the report on enemy activity?"

"Expect some flares, a few mortars at night". Malarkey replied, "scattered 88's, snipers during the day".

Jones nodded, gesturing towards Webster. "Yeah, we dodged some mortars on our way in".

Malarkey just gave him this blank stare, "hm".

"Dodged some mortars". Jesus Christ.

"They also got some sort of railroad gun back there". Malarkey continued, "shells about the size of a deuce and a half. Sounds like a Freight train when one comes over".

"But they haven't made any attempts to cross the river?"

"No". Malarkey responded quietly. "They have roofs of their heads, sir, just like us. I don't think anybody wants to do anything stupid at this point, right?"

Murphy cleared her throat, "speaking of stupid…the patrol tonight, sir?"

"Right, yes". Jones said, "it comes straight from Colonel Sink. Captain Speirs was told to bring along fifteen men, he has chosen Heffron, McClung and Ramirez from this Platoon".

She sighed.

"So, it's McClung, Heffron and Ramirez". Malarkey repeated.

Jones nodded, "I'll tell them. I just need you to point-"

"listen up!" Malarkey called out to the rest, walking over to them. "Got some bad news". He took off his hat, "there is a patrol set for tonight. And so far, Speirs wants McClung-"

"we know".

"Yeah, we just fucking heard". Heffron muttered.

"Webster here told us".

The phone started to ring, Murphy's eyes widened a bit.

Oh, what if that was Speirs?

"Easy White". Malarkey answered.

While Malarkey continued to talk, Webster looked away from everyone.

They had just ratted him out.

Not a good move. Murphy set them a tiny glare.

"The PX rations just came in". Malarkey told them, "including winter shoe packs".

"Beautiful".

"Yeah, finally, right?"

"Good of 'um". Liebgott said, "now we're in a nice warm house".

"Also". Malarkey added, "we get showers".

Murphy didn't get a chance to show how relieved she was about showers.

 _ **Swoosh!**_

There came a mortar.

"Alright, clear out! Let's move out!" Malarkey hollered.

They all raced out of the room, grabbing their helmets and the likes.

One of the mortars crashed into the building opposite them.

And just like all shelling's, it was loud, and the house could have collapsed.

They raced down into the cellar, hiding under the tables.

Nothing dramatic happened, most of the guys started laughing.

Christ, she wasn't.

Murphy hated those damn things. Heffron grabbed her arm, pulling her up.

"Come on, Murph. You fucking stink".

When they left the house, white chalk falling off their helmets and jackets. There came on single explosion. And they all stopped, staring off towards the sound.

"Somebody's been hit!"

And just like that, everyone was running down the road.

It was Bill Kiehn.

Alley was with him at the time.

Bill was a Toccoa guy. And he was killed because he was carrying a sack of potatoes.

Wrong place, wrong time.

That's the horrors of war. It's either your day, or it's not.

Christenson was by his body, staring blankly ahead.

Jackson stood at the side, as if guarding them.

He probably was, Murphy figured. He had done it many times before.

Murphy placed a hand on Christenson's shoulder.

"Did you know him well?" Jones asked Webster.

"No…not really".

Christenson lowered his head.

Murphy clenched her jaw, "Web, get lost, would you?"

When Webster and Jones cleared off, Jackson remained on point.

It took him a few more minutes but Christenson finally got up.

And the three of them headed towards the showers.

Portable showers. No sides, just bare asses.

Dam, Murphy was going to have to wait.

Showers for 2nd were going to have to wait anyway because Malarkey soon came over to them, rounding everyone up. They were all present, with a few guys from 1st Platoon standing behind them, all showered and in fresh uniforms.

"Alright, I'm leading this patrol". Malarkey said, "CO wants, Murph, Grant, Liebgott, Wynn, Jackson, Shifty from 3rd Platoon-"

Jackson cursed and walked off.

"And Webster". Malarkey finished.

"They want anyone from 1st?" Cobb asked.

"No".

"Is there anyone they don't want from 2nd?" Liebgott asked, sounding pissed.

"That list sounds like everybody to me". Malarkey remarked, before walking off towards the showers.

The rest stayed there, they couldn't believe it.

"It's always second Platoon". Liebgott said, "I swear to God, if we were down to three guys, they'd still want us for it".

When he walked off, Murphy sighed.

"I can't believe they're 'gonna make Malarkey lead it". Grant said.

"Christ – he only lost his five best friends". Heffron whispered, "what the fuck's he 'gotta live for?"

Rubbing the back of her neck, Murphy turned around, almost bumping onto Cobb.

But his eyes were staring at Webster.

"Been a long time since your last shower, professor?"

Murphy wasn't mad.

Not really, not as much as her friends were.

2nd were picked because 1st were always picked.

Sure, they had lost a lot more than 1st since Bastogne but 1st Platoon got picked for everything. So, Murphy wouldn't let it get to her because if Guarnere had heard them complain, you'd bet he'd raise all kinds of hell on them. Trouble was, he wasn't here, that's why Heffron went to the hospital. If Guarnere was around, he would have stayed. It's true, Heffron told her that.

At the back of their OP, Winters and Speirs were looking across the river.

Murphy figured she'd join them, seeing as she couldn't shower just yet.

And she sneaked up on them, by complete accident.

Murphy was standing there, staring out across the river and Winters looked to his right and soon smiled a little, when he saw her. Shaking his head, he gave her hand a tiny squeeze.

"Okay, Murphy?"

Nodding, she looked up at him. "Showers are – well, I'll wait".

He raised his eyebrows, "oh?"

Murphy smiled, shaking her head. "Sir, we're not discussing the shower situation".

Chuckling, Winters looked back through his binoculars.

"How's the new Lieutenant, Flynn?" Speirs asked her.

Murphy cleared her throat, "oh, fine, sir".

"You know he graduated on D-day?"

She huffed softly, "no, I didn't know that".

They were quiet for a few moments.

"Are the men okay?" Speirs asked.

"Fine, sir". Murphy replied softly, "they'll feel better after a shower and something to eat".

Her eyes looked over at the small village. Mainly farms and houses. Nothing much to it.

"Can you see the three-story building?" Winters asked, "that's the enemy OP, where you'll get your prisoners from".

Murphy tried to find this building. It only took her a few moments.

"Yeah, I see it now". She said quietly. "We're crossing the river with boats?"

"Yeah, we'll have four". He said, "the whole Battalion will be covering your withdrawal".

Murphy sighed quietly, "oh, Malark put Webster in my squad".

"Is that a bad thing?" Winters asked her quietly.

"I'm sure it will turn into a good thing".

"Captain Winters?"

The three of them turned around.

"About the patrol". Jones said, "I feel that I should go on the patrol, sir. I know I could use the experience".

Winters was quiet for a few moments.

"Denied. Anything else?"

"You're not 'gonna lead that patrol, Lieutenant Jones". Speirs added.

The three of them turned back around, Jones took a step forward.

"Permission to speak, sir".

Winters lips twitched; he couldn't believe this guy.

He turned back to face him again, "go on, Lieutenant".

"It looks like Sargent Malarkey could use a break, sir". Jones said.

Murphy frowned, slowly turning to face him.

"I've discussed it with him, and he said that he did not mind if I took his place on the patrol".

"That was nice of him". Winters said, a hint of amusement and sarcasm in his voice.

Vest soon walked up behind Jones.

"Captain Winters".

"Yes". Winters looked at Vest now.

"I'd really like to be on that patrol, sir". He said, "if it's true the Krauts are finished, I haven't really done anything except deliver mail and type morning reports".

Winters nodded, "absolutely".

Vest smiled small, "thank you, Captain".

Winters leaned back towards Speirs, "he's got a point about Sargent Malarkey".

Speirs looked at Jones, "yeah, a point".

"Fine, you can go". He said, after a few moments. "There'll be a briefing, CP 1700".

Jones nodded, "yes, sir".

"So, who do you have in mind leading this thing, if not Malarkey?" Speirs asked, once Jones and Vest had cleared off.

Crossing his arms, Winters looked back across the river.

He had a couple in mind. Two Sargent's came to mind, and one officer.

One Sargent was Martin, of course, he was great out in combat.

And of course, Foley came to mind.

Jones would not be leading this patrol, that was for certain.

He looked at Murphy. She had done a similar patrol. In fact, Murphy had done many patrols regarding prisoners. Just not ones with crossing a river but she was on Operation Pegasus. But like Malarkey, Murphy had been on every important objective and mission since D-day. Brecourt, Carentan, Neunen, Veghal, Uden, the Island, Bastogne, the patrol in Bastogne, Foy – every single one.

But she did lack experience with handling fifteen men.

Murphy was only used to three or four.

"Sargent Martin will lead". He said, "and Murphy? You'll be second in command".

"I'm not offended that you picked Johnny, sir". She said to him, "he's used to more guys, I'm only used to my squad".

Winters smiled a little, "well, you're an expert on prisoner snatches".

"That's very true".

They both chuckled.

Speirs pulled a face, shaking his head.

"Why doesn't Flynn just lead?"

Murphy cleared her throat, "I'm not-"

"we're bringing along two new faces". He said, "Flynn could use the experience".

They both looked at her.

Murphy rubbed her lips together, shaking her head.

"Johnny would be better, sir". She said, "I'll make sure the prisoners are secured and no one gets left behind".

"Good idea". Winters approved, giving her hand a squeeze again. "Now, go get a shower".

…

Malarkey was waiting by the showers, smoking a cigarette.

"There you are".

Murphy put down her rifle and helmet, "you were waiting for me?"

"Yup". Malarkey said, "new uniform and towels in there".

Nodding, she stepped inside.

"And Murph?"

"Yeah?"

Malarkey gave her a tiny smile, "take your time".

Murphy turned on the pipes, stripped off her clothes and got under the warm water.

Bloody hell, she almost collapsed.

She could have done too, that water was such a strong force of relief.

And the soap, it smelt like a garden of fresh roses.

Murphy tried to scrub away Bastonge, those woods, the gore, the snow, the death.

No amount of washing could get rid of Bastogne.

After her hair was washed, Murphy ended up sitting down, water still washing over her.

It had turned cold, she didn't know.

So cold. Like she was back in those woods again, freezing.

Her eyes glazed over, she was staring at Guarnere and Toye again.

She could see Hughes, cradled in her arms.

And she could see blood, puddles and rivers of blood, rushing towards her.

Heart now in her throat, Murphy soon turned cold.

When the red touched her toe, she screamed and scooted into the corner.

"Murph!" Malarkey yelled, running into the shower room.

Shaking her head, Murphy snapped out of it.

"Sorry, thought I – never mind".

 _Get a grip, you stupid mick!_


	38. Chapter 38

Because of that ordeal in the shower.

By the time Murphy was dry and changed, she was running late.

God, she was never late!

Murphy was a little nervous, it wasn't Winters who'd give her hell. It was either going to be Martin or Heffron. Now, Heffron, if you were on time, you were late. That man was early for everything, always two-minutes early. Murphy swore he had a giant stick up his ass. But she wouldn't change him for the world.

Running across the road and into CP, Lipton and Luz were snickering.

Murphy ignored them and briskly walked towards the room.

"Gentlemen". Winters was standing behind a chair, Martin to his left. "As you can see, we've-"

"sorry". Murphy mumbled quietly, standing next to Martin.

Clearing his throat, Winters started again. "As you can see, we've gathered sixteen of you here for this prisoner snatch tonight, 0100".

She quickly rubbed the sweat off her forehead.

"Just a couple of points". He said, "we've secured four rubber boats to get you across the river. Lieutenant Jones here-". He gestured towards him, "is the rank officer and he'll be along as an observer".

Murphy took a tiny step back.

There was a quick nod shared between Webster and Jones.

"Sargent Martin here, will lead the patrol in Sargent Malarkey's place".

And Martin, he didn't like the smug smile on Webster face.

Oh, great. If Martin was already pissed off, he was going to give Murphy hell.

"The whole Battalion will be covering your withdrawal. We've identified targets, we've planned fire for them". Winters informed them. "We hear these whistles, we open up. So, don't blow 'em 'till you're back on the boats with your prisoners".

Winters handed the whistles to Martin.

"And if the house turns out to be empty, sir?" Martin asked.

"It won't". He replied, "but in any case, we know it's an outpost and we want it destroyed, so, you have to lay some demo on a time delay". Winters said, "you have to move fast but carefully. Put a perimeter around the house. Once that's in place, get your rifle grenades in the first floor window. Get your assault team in quick-"

Martin gave him a nod, with a tiny, "yeah", at the end.

"Okay". Winters said. "Good, understood". He then added, "remember, it's about prisoners. Don't pop the first thing that moves…clear?"

"Yes, sir".

"Good".

Winters looked around at the guys again.

"Picked your assault team?" Winters asked.

"Murphy, McClung, Sisk, Cobb, Garcia". Martin replied, "and Webster, as translator".

Murphy sure was glad she wasn't Webster.

"The rest of you guys, a base of fire with Sargent Grant". He then tossed the whistle to Grant. Martin crossed his arms, staring at Webster, "you speak German, right, Webster?"

"Yeah, a little bit". He responded.

"Good". He said, lowering his voice. "That's my team, sir".

"Questions?" Winters asked.

"No, sir".

"Good". He said, "good luck".

And he really did mean that.

Murphy knew he wasn't happy with this patrol.

But if Sink asked for it, it had to be done.

A job's a job.

"Thank you, sir". They all chorused back.

Jones straightened himself out, "ten – hut!"

"As you were, carry on". Winters quickly told them.

Murphy frowned, looking over at Heffron, who was smirking.

When the officers and Martin left, the room quietened down.

"A little German?" Liebgott said, "his Germans as good as mine".

They all soon left CP.

Jackson had left his helmet, the nut.

Grant gave it to him, "Jackson, you'll need this".

"Thanks".

Murphy gave his arm a tiny slap, "I'll make you dig six holes, you stupid mick".

"Can you believe that guy?" Grant said, "Webster, he tries to get out of everything".

"Whatever". Liebgott said.

Murphy looked up at them, "come on…I'm not defending him but Johnny picked the-"

"hey!" Cobb snapped, "quit defending him!"

She made a gesture with her hands, "what the hell did I just say?"

Heffron grinned and clapped her shoulder, "come on, let's see if Malark's made us some food".

"Babe, what the hell did I just say?"

"I know, he's an ass".

"He is". Jackson agreed, "he gave us a rough time when we joined you guys".

"Yeah". Heffron said through a laugh, "so did Earl".

"Hey, Murph? How come you were late?" Jackson asked, "you always told us to be on time".

Murphy shook her head, "had a shower".

"You drown?" Heffron teased.

She elbowed his side, "no, you arse. I had to wait until everyone was out".

"Ah – sucks to be you, Murph".

She had overheard that Liebgott was no longer apart of the patrol.

Webster figured they didn't need two translators.

And while passing the officers and the Sargent, Murphy grabbed Martin's arm.

Heffron and Jackson walked on.

"Murph?"

"Have Jack on the assault team too?" Murphy suggested, "he's used to prisoner snatches, he's good at them, pal".

Martin gave her a nod, "sure thing, Murph".

"What's the formation?"

"Four men on the left, four on the right flank". He said, "McClung's lead scout".

Murphy gave a nod, "good – that man swears he can sniff the Germans".

Martin snorted, "yeah? Well, I hope he don't have a cold".

She set him a lazy smile, "ah – he's well, don't worry".

"No helmets, alright? Full moon tonight".

Her nose twitched, "great".

"It'll be fine, Murph". Martin gave her arm a clap. "And besides, what the hell are you doing turning up late, huh?"

Murphy sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah…sorry about that".

He grinned, "Murph, I think I'll let you off, just this once".

"Ah, mighty kind of you, Johnny".

Still grinning, Martin nodded. "Get lost, Murph".

Murphy's face fell.

And she might have turned three shades paler.

 _"Get lost, Murph"._

Why the hell did he have to say that?

And now she was just standing there, frozen on the spot, eyes glazed over and looking towards nothing. It felt like something had just punched her right though the chest and squeezed her heart. It hurt, so much.

Martin, he was beside himself.

Because her face changed so quickly. It looked like she was about to puke.

And Winters was right behind him.

God, Martin thought he had broken her.

"Murph". He whispered, "hey – get out of it, come on".

Blinking, Murphy looked at him.

Martin sighed, "okay?"

She gave him a tiny nod, "fine". Murphy croaked, "see you back at the house".

…

Down in the cellar, Malarkey was serving them up some hot beans.

Murphy made sure Jackson and Heffron had plenty to eat.

"Here, Murph". Malarkey gave her a helping. "Eat up, huh?"

"Thanks, pal".

She took a seat opposite Jackson.

Who was smoking, checking his rifle and eating.

It was their first hot meal in a while. They savoured every last bite.

"Remember those other prisoner snatches, Jack?" Murphy said to him. "Be quiet, listen to what Sargent Martin tells you to do and remember-"

"don't fire, got it". Jackson said, "Murph, I've got it".

"Yeah, I know". She said softly, with a tiny smile. "Did you get mail?"

"I did". He replied, "mom wrote me a letter, Robert's doing well, still in Italy".

"Yeah?"

"Yeah – and Margaret, she's doing well with school. Just moved up a grade".

"She's ten, right?"

Jackson nodded, "yup – ten".

Murphy smiled, "when did you turn twenty-two?"

"Last year". He grinned, "what? You forgot my birthday".

"I did, actually". She mumbled, "sorry".

Jackson shrugged, "heck, we've been busy, Murph".

Murphy cleared her throat, "I'll be twenty-two this year".

"No shit". He said, "I don't even know how old I thought you were".

"Older or younger?" She challenged.

Jackson snorted, "I'm 'gonna go with younger".

Murphy chuckled quietly, "good lad".

"Sargent Flynn?"

She looked to her right, "hey, Vest".

He took the seat next to her, "can I join you and Jackson tonight?"

Murphy nodded, "sure thing – asked Sargent Martin?"

"Yeah, he said to check in with you".

"Yeah, that's fine…how're you feeling about it all?"

Vest shrugged, "fine. Figured this'll make up for everything I've missed".

Murphy frowned, "what'd you mean?"

"Come on, Murph". He mumbled lowly, "all I do is deliver mail".

"What? You don't think that's important?"

She could have slapped him.

"Jesus, Vest". Murphy hissed, "you know, without you handing out the mail and sorting it all out before hand, you know how sad we'd be? Those letters from home, they mean a great 'fecking deal to us". She shook her head, "Jesus Christ, Vest".

A tiny grin spread across his lips, "sorry, Sargent".

"You bloody better be". She mumbled. "You arse".

Jackson smiled, "I think she likes you, Vest".

"Oh, you got a letter". Vest suddenly said, "here you go, Murph".

Murphy looked at the back of the envelope and huffed, "it's from Bill".

Heffron's head snapped up, "read it".

She shook her head, "later – get your bloody head in the game, Babe".

"Did I hear that?" Malarkey asked, "is it from Bill?"

Murphy sighed, "we'll read it later, alright?"

"I'm holding you to that". He said to her.

"Yeah, same". Jackson added, "I 'wanna know how he's doing".

"We'll find out later". She said quietly, "eat the rest of your food, come on".

Before they planned on crossing the river, Martin and Murphy met Winters, Nixon and Speirs around the back of OP2, checking out what they were facing once again, in the dark. Murphy wondered down towards the bank. She got down, placing her finger into the water.

Yup, that water was freezing.

It wasn't as wide as the lower Rhine. They had ropes to pull them along this time, instead of using oars. That way, they should get across very quietly, but you could never be so sure. She squatted down there for a few moments, just watching the other side. Honestly, this just felt like another patrol, another job but because they were so close to the end of the war, it just had to go without fail. No one deserved to get hurt, not now.

With the moon light shinning down on them, at 0100, everyone was getting into position.

She got into the boat with Martin, Jackson, McClung and Vest.

Things were going smoothly, they pulled on the rope and dragged the boat across the river. Very slowly, steadily, making as little noise as possible. That was until;

 _ **Splash!**_

Garcia, Cobb and Sisk capsized.

Only problem was, Sisk couldn't swim, he was making some noise back there.

Sisk was okay, Garcia and Cobb pulled him back to shore.

But the three of them were soaked and the water was freezing.

That was just bad luck.

Jones gave them the signal to keep going.

"Alright, keep going". Martin whispered, "stay focused".

The boats reached the other side, one by one, they used the rope to pull themselves up.

McClung in the lead with Martin, Murphy stayed by the bank.

"Get down, on your bellies". She told them all quietly.

Last man to leave her side was Jones, Murphy double-checked, of course, before getting down on her belly and crawling up towards the others. The Germans were clever, they had prepared all sorts of traps to signal any moments. But Easy were smarter.

Martin and McClung brought out the wire cutters, taking down each set of barbed wire.

Attached to the wires were cans, which would rattle loudly if someone happened to trip over them. The patrol went through a lot of those little traps, though managed to take them all down without any noise or disturbance. And while crawling on her belly, through snow and mud, Murphy realised the risk at hand. One noise, the Germans would open-fire, they could have all died, realistically.

Martin and McClung snapped off the last of the barbed wire.

Once they past that part, they started to move on foot.

With the patrol moving up towards cover, Murphy waited until Grant had past her, before joining the rest, behind a series of bricks, logs and debris. From that point, they moved up in twos towards a large pile of logs. Martin and Murphy were the last to reach everyone.

So far, it was going fine.

They remained quiet, though acted fast and carefully.

"Powers, Wynn, secure the left flank". Martin said, "Lieutenant, take Grant and Heffron, secure the right perimeter and the crossroads, clear?"

When everyone was clear on what they were doing, Martin told them to move out.

"Security out, go".

And with them gone, the rest move closer together behind the logs.

Martin checked to see if everyone was present, before McClung took the lead and they all started to move up once again.

They were nearing the OP, Murphy could see it.

It was hard to miss really, the German outpost was the largest building there.

And soon, they were crouched on the side of the building.

The top window was in clear sight, around that bend, was stairs leading up to the house.

Murphy couldn't hear anything, she figured the house might have been empty.

While Martin was getting the rifle grenade ready, Jackson took out his grenade.

She didn't notice this, Murphy was at the back, behind Vest.

Her job was to make sure everyone was present.

Murphy could hear the clicking of Martin setting up the rifle.

And soon.

 _Clash!_

The rifle grenade went right through the top window.

Moments after, she heard Martin called out; "Jackson! Hold on!"

And of course, Murphy left the rear and ran.

Jackson was heading towards the front of the house, barging up those stairs.

Murphy was running after him.

"Jack!" She hissed, "what the hell are you doing?!"

Jackson wasn't listening to her, he had already tossed the grenade inside the house. And Murphy was already planning on giving him hell for doing that when they got back from this patrol but to her horror, Jackson ran in right after that grenade.

"Jack!" She screamed.

The grenade exploded.

And he let out a terrible scream of pain, which caused Murphy's insides to churn. She entered the house shortly after, Jackson was lying on the ground, cradling his face, though very gingerly. Fragments of the grenade had almost melted off the left side of his face and a bit of shrapnel had lodged into his head.

Oh, this wasn't good.

Murphy was down there with him, removing his hand so she could see the damage.

Her hands were already covered in blood, she could feel the heat from the grenade on his melted face. And she didn't know what the hell to do next, because everyone was yelling. The Germans were shouting because the grenade had hit their friend, wounding him badly. And Martin was barking out orders.

"Murph – get up!" He said to her firmly, "Vest, take care of Jackson. Ramirez, watch Vest".

Murphy got onto her feet.

"Spread out those prisoners!"

Right, the job.

Murphy almost forgot why they were there to begin with.

So, they had two prisoners standing, one was wounded.

Webster and Murphy started to spread the prisoners out, moving them away from their wounded friend. And they searched their jackets and what-not for weapons and anything they could communicate with. It was an easy process, if only it was quieter.

"Keep those men quiet!" Martin yelled.

Honestly, it didn't help that everyone was yelling.

Webster was telling the Germans to be quiet, while the Germans were yelling and Martin was getting everyone together, barking out this that and the next thing.

"Webster, take the charges, prime it, bury it". Martin tossed him the box.

McClung kept the prisoners at gun point.

Murphy and Martin got a couple of guys to carry the wounded German out.

And all the while, Jackson was hurt bad and Vest was in shock.

She turned back towards the prisoners, "shut up". She told them.

They continued to yell.

Murphy, already on edge, hit one of the Germans with the end of her rifle.

"Shut up!"

Martin sharply turned to face her, "that's enough, Murph!"

All the yelling, it wasn't helping with Jackson.

He was already on the verge of panic. Murphy just wanted them to shut up. She didn't feel bad, you wouldn't, if your friend was wounded that badly. It didn't anger the German, he just sort of looked at her, holding the side of his face. Christ, she had done a lot worse than hit a German.

And if she had known the events about to unfold, Murphy would have shot them both.

They all would have.

"Everybody moves out on my command!"

Ramirez had picked up Jackson, placing him over his shoulder.

"Are you ready?!" Martin yelled, his eyes landing on Murphy. "Are we ready?!"

She nodded, "ready".

Everyone started to leave the house.

Murphy and Martin stayed behind for a few moments, while Webster finished with the charges. And once that was done, they left the house and ran out into gun fire. They had been yelling so much inside that room, Murphy hadn't even heard the others firing. It wasn't so bad, not yet. The Germans were only hitting them with rifles.

Soon, Martin was calling for everyone to fall back, Shifty first.

The only problem they faced was not only getting themselves out, but the Germans.

If the prisoners died, they'd have to do this patrol all over again and they didn't want that.

Imagine that, they were putting the Germans first, just for those moments back to the boat, all to save themselves for another patrol. Murphy couldn't believe it. They were crazy.

"Wynn, fall back! We're moving out!"

Murphy had to wait until Popeye had joined up with Shifty.

Once Popeye hooked-up, she moved forward again.

"Babe, Chuck – let's go!" Murphy called, while passing them.

Because Christ, the Germans were shooting at them with machine-guns now.

It was just a series of quick flashes of light so far, nothing they weren't used to.

And they were doing fine, falling back.

Occasionally, they'd stop and give covering fire while the rest joined the others, who were running back to the boats. Currently, Webster had offered some covering fire, Murphy had to stick around and help him, she had to be the last one at the boats.

And then, Jones started to scream that everyone get back to the boats.

"Go, Web!" Murphy gave his arm a nudge.

 **Boom!**

Now came the mortars.

Dirt and snow shot up from the ground, falling on top of them.

A few of them hit close by, almost blasting them over the river without a boat.

Murphy was running behind Jones, he wasn't aware that she was behind him.

The thing was, he needed to blow that whistle but if Murphy was so far behind, she'd risk getting hit by their covering fire. So, she had to sprint. Though it was proving hard, when a mortar hit, the dirt would blast into her face, grit would blind her vision and she'd stumble and almost fall each time.

And he did blow that whistle.

Their covering fire opened up.

Murphy pushed herself harder, she could still see Jones, running in front.

The boats were such a relief. Even if bullets and mortars were flying above your head, those boats were a safe haven. Once everyone was in one, Murphy got in. They weren't even aware that they had left the wounded prisoner behind, they just wanted to get across that damn river in one piece. No one was about to risk their life like that again, not for some prisoners.

This fucking patrol.

Vest was screaming the whole way, in a fit of rage and fear for Jackson.

Shells were hitting the water, machine-guns were firing out from both ends.

It was chaotic.

When they reached the bank, they all rushed to get out of the boats and they all ran back to OP2, heading down into the cellar. Sisk, Cobb and Garcia were waiting for them and they got up, when they heard the patrol rushing down. Jackson was placed onto a table; the prisoners were pushed into the back of the room. With the fighting going on outside, people were yelling down in the cellar. God, even Heffron was screaming in anger.

It was terrible.

Vest couldn't do it, Martin pushed him aside.

And then, the Sargent left to get a medic, leaving Jones in charge.

Jackson started to panic a little, his legs were moving around.

"Grab his legs!" Someone yelled.

Murphy was by his head, running her hands through his hair.

"He's 'gonna fucking die!" Vest was screaming, "he's 'gonna fucking die!"

"Jackson, look at me. Don't listen to him. You're 'gonna be fine". Webster told him.

And with Vest getting more and more upset, it struck a nerve with Heffron.

But when Jackson started to sob, Murphy felt her heart sink.

She looked up at Jones, "will you sort things out with the prisoners?"

Murphy's voice, all things considered, was calm.

Jones stared at her, looking a little pale in the face and nodded.

Good, now that he had a hold on things, Murphy could be with her friend.

But the shouting, God, they were just screaming.

And the more they yelled, the worse Jackson got.

"Jack?" Murphy soothed, "come on, pally. It's not that bad – hey, it's not that bad".

"Sarge!" He cried, "Sarge – I don't 'wanna die! I don't 'wanna die!"

"You're not 'gonna die". She said, "you're going home, eh? You're 'gonna see Robert, you parents and Margaret again. It's going to be fine, it's okay".

"He's 'gonna fucking die!"

Vest was screaming, sure but his voice was cracking on tear-less sobs.

This whole thing was a mess.

"Where the fuck is the medic?!" Webster yelled.

Murphy's eyes flickered towards him, "Web". She said, "come on, stay focused".

However, it seemed the medic had heard his cry for help because Gene and Martin appeared.

Gene pushed past everyone, they all cleared a space for him.

Murphy took Jackson's hand, while Gene took a hold of his face.

"You're alright, Jackson. Take it easy". Came his soothing voice.

And for a moment, he calmed down.

It was like watching a magic trick.

"Light, I need some light".

Sisk brought out his lighter, flicking on the flame.

"Alright, look at the flame". Gene commanded softly, "look at the flame, Jackson".

Everyone was quiet. While they watched this tiny flame, travel back and forth between Jackson's eye. And Gene was talking so calmly to him and Jackson seemed to take in every word he was saying. Murphy thought it was going to be okay, she thought their medic had saved the day and perhaps this patrol wouldn't turn into something horrible and heart wrenching.

But Jackson broke down once more.

"Alright, let's get him out of here".

His hand fell out of Murphy's, because they were all moving him.

"I don't 'wanna die!" Jackson sobbed.

She tried to reach him again, but they were blocking her way.

"I don't 'wanna die!"

Heffron was with him, she could hear his voice.

Murphy couldn't get to him.

And they put Jackson onto a stretcher, preparing to move him out of this cellar.

She started to make her way towards him again, finally reaching his side.

But there came another explosion, the stretcher was put down.

Jackson continued to cry out.

Murphy, trying as hard she could, tried to calm him down.

Gene pulled him up a bit, "Jackson". He said, firmly. "You're not 'gonna die! I need you to hang on!"

She was on her knees beside them, hand over her chest.

 _Oh, no._

But Jackson was gurgling.

In a world of pain of his own, eye staring at the medic.

And he stopped moving.

He stopped breathing.

His eyes closed and his head fell to the side.

This hit everyone, everyone felt it all at once.

No one could believe it. They were so close, so fucking close to seeing the end of this war. And the room, it was so quiet. You wouldn't believe just moments ago that people were yelling, screaming and crying. Because right now, despite the noise coming from outside, you could have heard a pin drop.

Gene took off Jackson's dog tags, handing them to Murphy with a remorseful look.

With bloodied hands, she took the tags, staring down at them.

"Murph?" Grant whispered.

She raised her head, looking at him.

Martin came over, covering Jackson with a blanket.

Murphy was staring off towards nothing. Having looked away from Grant.

She wasn't sure how to react.

So, she grabbed her rifle and got up onto her feet.

Vest was crying, Jones had his hand on the top of his head.

Her eyes moved from them, to Heffron.

He was shaking his head, as if he already knew what she was thinking.

Murphy clenched her jaw, hands tightening around her rife.

It wasn't the prisoner's fault. Right?

"Heffron, take Murphy up stairs". Martin told him, voice low.

Murphy, she was staring at the prisoner's still.

Heffron walked over to her, carefully placing his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Murph". He mumbled quietly, "let's go, come on".

Instead of firing the rifle, Murphy slammed it onto the ground.

The others flinched.

Heffron didn't have to lead her anywhere.

She left.


	39. Chapter 39

Murphy didn't know what she was doing.

But like Martin said, she was back up the stairs.

Malarkey, Liebgott and Perconte were there.

The recovering fire had been drawn to a close, shortly after they pulled-back. The Germans didn't put up much of a fight, not like they used to. They were probably getting tired of the war, like they were. God, they were so fucking tired of this war.

When she walked inside the bedroom, the three of them all got up.

"Well?" Malarkey asked, the most anxious to hear of any news. "Did it go well?"

Murphy didn't respond. It was like Hughes all over again. Someone else was going to have to tell them because she couldn't. Malarkey was friends with Jackson, she wasn't about to tell him yet again, that he had lost another friend. No, she couldn't do that anything.

 _She can't do this anymore._

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy placed her hands on the table, leaning against it.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything, Heffron ran inside the room.

"Thank God". He whispered, when he spotted Murphy.

Liebgott looked from her, back to Heffron.

"What the fuck happened?" He demanded, though quietly.

Heffron cleared his throat, "um – we got two prisoners".

"Right". Malarkey said, though knew there was more. "Who was it?"

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair.

His hand then fell heavily against his thigh.

"Jackson".

Malarkey let out this tiny puff of air, before he sat down on the bottom bunk.

The room was still, very quiet, like down in the cellar.

"Jackson". Liebgott repeated, very quietly.

Perconte shook his head, looking over at Murphy.

"Jesus Christ". He whispered.

She was having this very strange inner battle.

One side of her, told her to stay very still and calm down.

And the other, it just wanted to break something.

Murphy's right hand curled into a very tight fist.

She pulled her arm back and in one very quick move.

 **Bang!**

She punched the table.

They flinched, having not expected that.

Sure, they were used to seeing Murphy punch, she had a good hook. But dammit, they didn't expect her to punch the fucking table. And Malarkey shot up, standing on his feet. Murphy was breathing heavily, while her knuckles started to ache, but she couldn't feel it.

 _She couldn't feel a damn thing._

God, she just wanted to feel something. Jackson deserved that much. They all did.

Murphy looked down at her hand, holding it up close to her face.

She stretched it out, at least she didn't break it.

"Murph?" Malarkey whispered.

Murphy closed her eyes for a moment.

"Let me see that hand, huh?" His voice was soft, like when Toye almost jumped off that roof.

Was she really that worrying?

Opening her eyes, she turned around.

Malarkey carefully took her hand, looking down at it. "You can move it?"

Murphy gave him a tiny nod.

He looked at her, "alright, good".

Moving past Malarkey, Murphy sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk. She lowered her gaze from them, looking down at her hand again. Why did she do that? She could have broken her hand, then she'd have to come off the line. She just wanted to feel something. Because the pain on the inside, what ever feelings she had left, it felt numb.

Liebgott crouched in front of her, "you 'wanna head over to CP? See Winters?"

After a few moments, Murphy shook her head.

God, no.

What would he think of her if he saw her like this?

Liebgott sighed, "alright, Murph. You change your mind, you let us know".

Popeye and Grant soon came up.

They just wanted to check in on Murphy.

She hadn't said anything, she just stared at her hands.

And no one spoke about Jackson, not in this room. They were scared, in case Murphy decided to punch something else, or bang her head against the wall. It was looking like that, like she could have snapped and done something else.

They were all very quiet around her, talking softly about other things, un-patrol related topics. Malarkey knew not to talk to her, he went through the same thing in Bastogne. Murphy just needed to process this, that was all. But even he was starting to doubt this. Because he talked when he found out about Muck, Murphy hadn't uttered a single word. And he couldn't understand why. Malarkey just wanted to shake her out of it.

At some point, Perconte had left for an hour and came back with coffees for everyone.

Murphy was still looking down.

It had soon grown light outside.

Jones and Webster then entered.

"We heard you got two prisoners". Malarkey said. "Good work".

"Jackson's dead". Webster said.

It was quiet again.

"Yeah, we heard". Liebgott responded softly.

"Yeah, well they want another patrol tonight". Perconte told them quietly.

Murphy couldn't remember him mentioning that. Maybe she wasn't listening.

"Sargent Martin wants us all down at the cellar after some rest". Jones informed them, eyes briefly looking towards Murphy. "A debrief".

Murphy remembered the last debrief they had with Martin, it was after they lost Julian.

Malarkey cleared his throat, "I'll make sure they're all down".

She could have lied, said her hand was all kinds of fucked-up and sore.

Murphy could have easily gotten out of this patrol. Just from looking at her, you could tell she wasn't up for it. But Christ, it didn't matter because it was a job and Murphy had to do it. She couldn't let her friends down, she couldn't let Winters down – she was going.

And no one asked her if she wanted to "sit this one out" because Murphy was going.

They rested, she got up and sat on the edge of the table.

…

Back down in the cellar.

It seemed smaller somehow.

Everyone was gathered around the table, drinking coffee, smoking, talking quietly.

Murphy was sitting by the wall, next to Shifty who was almost asleep.

Alley had taken Jackson's death pretty bad. Probably because he had only just witnessed his friend's death yesterday before the patrol. But in any case, everyone took Jackson's death hard. And now they wanted another patrol from them. They had no idea why, it didn't make any sense to grab another couple of prisoners. Couldn't they just be happy with the two they brought over last night?

Martin was sitting at the table, looking at all his guys.

He felt terrible for what happened, guilty even. And he had the task of telling Winters the outcome. Of course, the Captain assured him it wasn't his fault because it wasn't Martin's fault that Jackson died. Martin had followed the order, he got the prisoners, he had a well executed patrol despite the chaos, the yelling and the heavy fire. You couldn't fault how well he had handled things.

Vest had calmed down. He was with them again for this patrol.

"Who's got a light?"

Jones was starting to get accepted into their little click.

Webster too.

Martin was less of an ass towards the collage boy. The rest followed his example.

Malarkey didn't, Murphy didn't really care.

"Whatca looking at Webster?"

And then there was Cobb.

They could all smell trouble from Cobb, alcohol too.

Webster looked away from him.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, collage boy".

Jones looked at him, "are you drunk, trooper?"

"Leave me alone".

Murphy looked up from her hand.

"Answer the question". Jones told him, firmly.

"Yes, sir, I am drunk, sir". Cobb remarked, "drunk. Sick and tired of fucking patrols. Taking orders".

Martin soon faced him, "hey, Cobb. Shut up. It's boring. Okay?"

Cobb smirked, "taking his side, Johnny?"

He looked away from him, "yeah, I am".

Guys didn't take a shot of schnapps, they had to drink the whole bottle before they quit. Cobb was well and truly drunk, well and truly fucked as well. You weren't supposed to drink out in combat, not when you had a patrol on that night. And things just sort of escalated from there.

Jones got up, tried to take to bottle from his hands.

Cobb took a swing at him, Heffron stepped up and punched Cobb.

While Martin pulled them both apart.

"That's enough!"

Heffron was pushed to one side, Cobb was yelling and went for Martin.

Soon, everyone got up.

They were yelling, Cobb was like a wild rabbit. He was crazy!

The bottle soon crashed onto the ground, he went even more crazy.

Cobb had lost his damn mind. He'd probably getting arrested by the MP's for this.

But all the yelling and fighting stopped, when Murphy pressed a 45 against Cobb's temple.

"Someone get Foley". Martin ordered, though very quietly.

What struck them was the lack of emotion on her face.

God, she really could have pulled that trigger.

Murphy didn't talk, Cobb was hardly breathing and the whole room was left in silence. Shifty was standing close by, she had taken his sidearm. He wasn't mad, he just didn't realise it was his until he saw her standing there, his gun against Cobb's head.

"Now, Murph". He said, very softly. "I'd like my gun back".

Shifty only wanted his gun back because he didn't want anyone else getting killed.

Murphy shook her head.

"Murph". Grant whispered, "give Shift his gun back, come on".

The gun was removed from Cobb's head when Foley came down and took him away.

Wordlessly, she handed Shifty his gun back and sat down by the wall again.

…

"Sarge, they're on their way in".

"Ten-Hut!" Martin called out.

Everyone was soon on their feet.

Winters, Nixon and Speirs walked into the cellar.

"Martin".

"Sir".

Winters was rubbing his hands together, while he approached them. "At ease".

He made his way over to the table.

"This everybody Grant?"

The Sargent nodded, "sir".

Murphy stood at the back, still beside Shifty.

Winters took off his helmet, "you all did an excellent job last night". He said, gently setting his helmet down on the table. "I'm – uh – I'm proud". He said, "I'm proud. I just saw Colonel Sink, he's proud too. In fact, he's so proud he wants you to do another patrol across the river, tonight".

They all knew this, of course, but it still didn't hurt any less.

Winters looked at everyone, taking in their worn faces.

He checked his watch, "any moment now, the outpost we hit last night will go up in flames, Martin?"

He nodded, "yes, sir".

"It means we'd have to venture farther into town this time". He said, "Captain Speirs, you have the map, please?"

"Yeah, Sargent Grant".

Speirs handed the map to Grant, who took it and laid it out on the table.

They all moved closer to the table, looking down at the map.

A job was a job.

It had to be done.

"We have enemy movement, here". Winters pointed towards an area, "and here. Which means this is our new house target, here".

Murphy couldn't see past the guys. She was still standing at the back.

"We recovered all the boats, so we'll be setting off from the same place we did last night".

"We're not changing the plan any, sir?" Martin asked him.

Winters was quiet for a few moments, "no, plan is the same".

He looked at them all again and from behind Popeye, he spotted Murphy.

"Uh…it will be 0200 hours instead of 0100". His voice lowered a little.

Winters eyes held a certain amount of concern, while he looked at her.

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir".

She didn't even open her mouth.

Eyebrows twitching into a frown, Winters bit down on his lip.

"Good, because – uh – I want you all to get a full night's sleep tonight".

Heads were raised.

"Which means in the morning, you will report to me that you made it across the river into German lines but were unable to secure any live prisoners".

It was remarkable what a man was willing to sacrifice in order to save his men.

"Understand?"

"Yes, sir".

They were stunned.

Winters collected the map, "good". He said quietly. "Look sharp for tomorrow. We're moving off the line".

They were moving off the line.

After everything they had been through, they were finally getting a break.

Hot showers, hot food and no fighting.

No more friends getting blown up, no more death.

No more snow and freezing nights.

You wouldn't understand the relief, not unless you were there. These men, they had worked hard, pushing themselves past their breaking point. The men in that town, they were alive. They had dodged death, pushed back the reaper and survived. Your buddy next to you, he saved your life, you saved his. But it was Winters who saved them there.

Murphy looked at everyone.

They were smiling, hugging each other.

Such was a wonderful sight to witness.

That moment of pure happiness and relief.

A few of them shed a few tears. That's how strong the relief was.

Murphy slipped past the celebrations and headed up the stairs.

The outpost across the river had soon blown-up, she could see it's ruins lying on the ground. Murphy stared at it, while her fingers rubbed against Jackson's tags, which she still had a hold of. Biting down on her lip, she placed his tags inside her pocket and felt the end of an envelope jab into her finger.

Murphy pulled out the letter; the one Guarnere sent her.

Sitting down on a few sand bags, Murphy tore open the envelope.

 _"Dear Murph"._

She read inside her head.

 _"I'm glad you're reading this. And if this is anything like Johnny, then I'll keep the letter as tame as I possibly can. Wouldn't 'wanna get you into trouble for cursing and shit, huh?_

 _Anyway, I'm back in the States. We're in this hospital by the beach. It's peachy. Me and Joe, we're raising hell, Murph, you wouldn't believe it. We got these wheelchairs, you know? And we race them down the corridors, we're crazy over here. Few days ago, me and Joe we rolled on out of the hospital and went over to the beach. Got stuck in the sand, we looked like a couple of crazy micks. The locals thought we was mad. I don't care, we found it funny"._

Seemed that Guarnere hadn't changed much.

 _"My 'Ma, Pop and Frannie came down to see me. Well, they didn't know I had lost my leg. Got the shock of their life, Murph. Felt bad for not telling them but what can I say? I just didn't know how to tell them, you understand? But all I do know, is I just really 'wanna marry my girl. We're 'gonna elope. As soon as I get out of here, we're just 'gonna get married. Cause her parents and my parents, they don't want us to get married. But you know me, Murph, I'll always break the rules – I don't care, we're getting married._

 _So, Johnny wrote back to me, told me everything. The sucker cried, poor Johnny. Hope you gave him hell for that one, Murph. I'm kidding, of course! Anyway, I heard about all the fellas, hope you're all doing okay. Must be tough out there, Murph. Malarks in charge, you'll all do fine. Hope Babe's okay; miss that South Philly Willy – don't tell him I said that"._

Murphy smiled small, though it wavered.

 _"Some of the guys were a bit worried about you, Murph. What're you doing making people worried, huh? You know I'd give you hell for that. But I was sorry to hear about your boy Hughes, Murph. Ah, that kid, he was a good seed, huh? Kept you on your toes during training, you did good with him, Murph. I'm proud of you._

 _How's that Quaker?"_

Murphy cleared her throat, shaking her head.

 _"He's a good guy, Murph. Wish I told him that, you know? He'll keep you on the right track, so will the fellas. But Murph, you know what I say – you just have to keep going. When we lose a friend, it hurts all kinds of hell. Believe me, I've been feeling some effects since I've been in hospital, but I just have to keep going, fighting and everything._

 _But I will say that I miss you, Murph. I miss getting you into trouble, we did some crazy shit. Thanks for busting me out of the cells. You know, we're nothing alike. But I think that's why we got along so well, huh? And when this war ends, and you leave Europe. You'll marry Winters, I can see it. Lots of little Quakers running around – God help us. And when you get home, you better come and see me, as soon as you reach America._

 _Love you, Murph._

 _Bill"._

"Can I read it?"

Looking up, Murphy gave Malarkey a nod.

He took a seat next to her, carefully taking the letter from her hand.

Few sentences in, he was smiling.

Ah, the wheelchair part.

Murphy looked down at her hands again, while he read the letter, absorbing every word.

By the end of it, Malarkey looked perhaps a little sad.

She couldn't really tell.

"It's a good letter". He whispered, giving her the letter back. "I'm glad they're doing good".

Murphy bit down on her lip.

Malarkey looked at her, "Murph. Don't do what I did".

Frowning a little, she looked back at him.

"Don't – don't shut us out". He said, "just talk to me".

Sighing, Murphy ran a hand down her face.

Malarkey placed his hand on her shoulder, "come on, Murph".

She cleared her throat, "I told him to be on the assault team".

Murphy bit down on her lip, shaking her head.

"Jesus, Malark". She whispered, "he just ran up those stairs".

"It wasn't your fault-"

"it was". Murphy croaked, tears filling her eyes.

Malarkey's face fell further.

"It was I – I should have stopped him". She said quietly, while a tear rolled down her cheek.

He swallowed back a lump in his throat.

Murphy's bottom lip quivered, "this always happens". She said, "as soon as we get off the line, someone always gets hurt or dies". Murphy sniffed, wiping the tear away. "Just didn't think it would happen this time, you know?"

Malarkey squeezed her shoulder. "I know, Murph".

She rubbed her lips together, "I let everyone down".

"That's – that's not true". He whispered fiercely, "Jesus Christ, Murphy…how could you think that, huh? You know that ain't true".

Murphy looked at him, "no? Then how come – why do I feel like this?"

Malarkey shook his head slowly, "because you lost your friend, Murph".

Her shoulders dropped, as did her head.

Murphy looked at her hands again.

"I'm failing".

Malarkey felt led hit his stomach.

Murphy shook her head, "I'm just failing".

…

She walked into CP after dark.

Murphy was called over there, by the newly promoted 2nd Lieutenant Lipton.

He led her quietly down the corridor and into a room, with some seats and a desk.

Standing there, was Winters.

Lipton left, giving the Captain a nod before he departed.

When the door closed, Murphy eyes wondered over to him.

Winters was staring back at her, heart breaking.

"Murphy". He whispered, "Malarkey – well, they're worried about you".

She looked away from him.

She was angry. Why did they have to tell Winters anything?

Winters walked over to her, "I'm worried. Very worried".

Murphy shook her head, "well, stop". She whispered, "no point in it".

Frowning a little, Winters sighed quietly.

This wasn't like her at all.

She was almost being hostile towards him, very out of character.

"You're upset". He said softly, "I understand you're angry about the patrol".

Murphy pulled a face, "I'm not angry about the patrol". She mumbled, "I'm angry at me".

Winters tilted his head to the side.

She drew out a shaky sigh, "I could have handled it better". Murphy told him, "I just – I don't know. I just shut down for most of it".

He placed his hand on the side of her face, "will you look at me, please?"

Swallowing, Murphy met his eyes.

"You handled it". Winters told her softly, "I mean it, sweetheart. I'm proud of you all. It wasn't easy. None of that was easy. You were all under a great deal of pressure".

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm just sorry that it ended it the way it did, Murphy".

Closing her eyes, Murphy took in a deep breath.

Winters wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Murphy pressed her face against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head, "I love you, Murphy. It's going to be okay, I promise".

It felt like an 88 crashed right into her chest.

"And you're not failing, sweetheart". Winters sounded more torn-up about that.

Murphy felt a few tears roll down her face.

"All you've ever done, is make me love you more and more each day". He whispered, "and the men, they love you too, Murphy".

Her breathing hitched, followed by the softest sob.

Winters closed his eyes, holding her tighter.

Murphy sobbed again.

And again.

It was like getting chased by an MG42, it wouldn't stop.

Everything tumbled out of her. Losing her friends, watching them suffer. Being so scared, that you couldn't think straight. All those moments during combat she had kept behind that wall, came crashing out of her, when the wall collapsed. And Winters held her, she might have just dropped onto the ground, if he wasn't there.

Winters had tears of his own in his eyes.

Though he didn't say much to her, he just let her cry.

There was no shame in tears, not when they had been held back for so long.

Murphy, though still crying quietly, muffled out, "love you", from his chest.

Winters kissed the top of her head again, "I love you, sweetheart".

She managed to get a better hold of herself.

Murphy wasn't sobbing anymore, though her breathing hitched every now and then.

She pulled back a little.

Winters wiped the tears with his thumb and took her hand.

She followed him into another room, it must have been his bedroom.

Winters gently sat her down on the bed and removed her boots.

He kissed her forehead, before pulled back the covers.

They both got into the bed, Murphy placed her head onto his chest, he played with her hair. It was a double bed, with thick blankets and fluffy pillows. The wallpaper was chipping away but it was the nicest room she had been inside since Paris.

Reaching into her pocket, Murphy took out the letter and handed it to Winters.

He started to read the letter, chuckling every now and then.

Her lips twitched a little.

"I'm glad he's doing better".

"Me too". Murphy whispered.

Winters put the letter aside and played with her hair again.

He was quiet for a few moments.

"Little Quakers, huh?"

She then smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. Not yet.

Winters snorted, "at least his humour hasn't changed".

Being in his arms again, Murphy felt a new light shine in her eyes.

Guarnere and Toye were going to be fine.

Though she had lost Jackson and so many more friends, there was always hope.

One day, the war would end, and a new chapter would open.

Murphy wrapped an arm across his waist.

The farm.

And a lot of little Quakers running around.


	40. Chapter 40

People were just giant assholes.

Back in Mourmelon, the guys who had been staying in their barracks, looted everything.

All their badges were gone, jump wings – everything.

The camp was a dump now, they had to stay in these large twelve-man tents instead.

Still, at least they had warm showers, food, a bed and new uniforms.

But whichever outfit looted them, were assholes.

One a brighter note, Murphy was extremely proud of Winters, who had recently been promoted to Major. God, if that man wasn't careful, he'd be a Colonel soon. And after Lipton got promoted, Floyd took over as 1st Sargent. Martin was pretty bummed about that, he thought he'd be given this promotion. Murphy did as well, actually, but Floyd was one of Winters best soldiers.

So, with Winters now in command of 2nd Battalion, he had set-up a rigorous training schedule for the replacements, who had arrived the day after they turned up at camp. Those wide-eyed kids, they couldn't be bothered with them anymore. Murphy certainly couldn't be bothered with training replacements anymore. And because she was only down to Webster, Heffron and Eddie, she was given two guys to make up her rifle squad. Two guys, who were both eighteen, annoying and always asking about combat.

"Is it true that-"

"what was it like when-"

"how many Krauts did you kill?"

They were all sick to the back teeth of them.

That's the truth.

You don't want to be sitting around talking about war wounds.

Some guys loved it, they loved to show off.

Murphy hated it.

At least she had Heffron and Eddie Stein, her machine-gun squad, who knew what they were doing and never asked questions. Eddie had replaced Jim, he was Heffron's new assistant machine-gunner. And she didn't have to worry about another squad, she was able to keep two. Murphy went really easy on them, but she did put her replacements through all kinds of hell. Just like what she did for Jackson and Hughes, only this time, if they laughed at something she said, she'd make them do push-ups. Murphy supposed she was a little hard on them, but she didn't care. No one did.

She never yelled at them. And like the previous time she had to train replacements, Murphy only gave out orders she could do herself. Still always fair, where as some of the replacements weren't so lucky.

Grant was their new Platoon Sargent. Couldn't have gone to a more well-deserved guy. Everyone loved Grant. The replacements loved him too. He had made sure to give Murphy two guys she was sure she'd get along with. She really did appreciate that. And when Murphy found out what he had done for her, she tried harder to get to know them a bit better.

One of her guys was called James Edwards. The other, Tom Mathews.

Tom and James were both from Chicago.

They didn't know each other until training, it was just lucky they were in the same Company and Platoon. James was five-foot five. Pretty tiny compared to most. Where as Tom was six-foot four and very skinny. He was like a toothpick, could have snapped the kid in half. They were both fast runners, especially James, funnily enough. Murphy couldn't believe the speed this guy was going at, he ran right past everyone else. And Tom, he kept up, but no runner compared to James.

Malarkey remained as the Platoon leader.

They still weren't given an officer.

It was like an unspoken problem, which wasn't really a problem because Malarkey was a better officer than an actual officer. Murphy figured Winters was going to promote him to a Lieutenant one day, maybe that's why he hadn't given them a replacement officer. But Malarkey wasn't with them at the moment, he was back in England, they had given him a ten-day furlough. Most of them had weekend passes, including night passes into Reims.

Because the veterans didn't really like training at the moment, all tired from combat. They'd pull a fast one and claim to be sick. Speirs of course, would look them over and send them to the hospital for a day, where they'd sit in bed and read magazines. The man knew they were faking, he just figured he'd let them get away with it. Only the brave would pull a fast one on Speirs. The replacements would never do such a thing. Murphy wouldn't either, if she was being honest.

During the first week, Murphy decided to write a letter back to Guarnere.

 _"Dear Bill,_

 _Well, things are pretty quiet now. We're back at camp but staying in tents because some arse holes destroyed the barracks and looted all our gear. Can you believe that? We were all yelling and going mad. It's crazy, Bill._

 _Thank you for your kind words and I'm glad you and Joe are causing trouble, means you're getting better. I'm sorry you're stuck in a hospital still, that must be boring. But at least you have Joe to keep you company – hope he's still singing away and annoying the fuck out of you. Will you tell him I'm asking for him? I'll write to him soon, I just didn't have a clue where you both were. How are you doing anyway? Can you go home soon? What's it like out of combat? Bet it feels weird, feels weird being off the line._

 _Unfortunately, I lost Jackson not too long ago. His death hit everyone really hard. His own grenade got him, it was terrible. I'll tell you more about it when I see you, I don't think I can go into too much detail. But yeah, I lost him so, I have Webster and two replacements in my rifle squad, Babe and Eddie in my machine-gun squad. I don't think they'll promote me to Staff Sargent, Chuck's taken over as Platoon Sargent, Malarkey's still running things. We didn't get a replacement officer, which is probably a good thing. No one likes those guys right now._

 _I'm hoping to get a weekend pass somewhere with Babe, Chuck and Johnny. Don't worry, Bill, we'll raise hell. I sure will anyway, I'll do it in your honour. Haha. Me and Winters are doing just fine, he's been promoted to Major now and Lipton's been promoted to 2nd Lieutenant. Floyd took his place as 1st Sargent, Johnny isn't happy about that. We're having some conflicting moments currently. And Cobb, you wouldn't believe it! He got kicked out because he had a go at an officer and got really drunk. He even had a go at Johnny, Bill and I stepped in, put Shifty's 45 to his temple until Foley came and took him away._

 _I'm doing better now, so, please don't worry. I'll admit, it was rough after losing you, Joe and Buck. And then we lost Skip, Penk and Hughes. Those were dark days, Bill. And after Jack died, I just burst into tears. I know you would have given me hell for that, but you weren't there to yell at me, so it just sort of happened. Nonetheless, I'm feeling better about things. It's starting to take a good turn, shit should be getting better now._

 _Babe's doing good, had a bit of trouble with his hands and feet but he's better now. And your pal Bain is still around, he's actually not doing as much running about now since you left – funny that, eh? You evil arse. But we all miss you and Joe, Bill. It's not been the same without you two. And when I get back to America, you'll be the first person I see, I promise. I know your address, I'll call right away, Joe too!_

 _I'll close it now, Bill._

 _Love from,_

 _Murph"._

She gave it to Vest, went back to the tent and fell asleep.

Garrison life was soft.

Despite the tents and training again, there wasn't enough to complain about.

Speirs left for England and came back a married man.

Murphy felt like everyone was getting married these days. And she wondered if Winters wanted to run off to England and marry her. Murphy doubted that, the man wasn't totally by the book, obviously but it was very different for them. She was an enlisted guy, he was a high-ranking officer. Colonel Sink would kick her right out of the Airborne, and he might have even demoted Winters. It was still very risky.

By the end of March, 2nd Battalion were on the road once again.

This time, they were headed for Germany – finally.

They moved towards the west side of the River Rhine and were placed into various villages in the Ruhr pocket near Dusseldorf. Their job was to go on outpost and watch out for any escapees trying to flee Germany. The best part, they got to stay in the German homes and boy, those homes were lovely. They had running hot and cold water, electric lights, a proper toilet and coal for the stove. It was better than being on holiday.

Murphy put Webster in with their squad, as well as, Janovek, Hickman, Collette and Sholty. And she kept Heffron and Eddie with a few others in a house close by, while the Toccoa guys stuck together in one large house, along with Lipton. The Toccoa guys were all NCO's now anyway, so, it made sense for them to be together. There weren't a lot of them left. That was the sad part.

Still, they started to live a comfortable life.

At the end of the day, they had a place to hang up their jackets.

Coffee was being made, there was the smell of warm food coming from the kitchen.

They had a place to put their feet up, that's all that mattered.

And guys would loot the houses, sending those valuables back to their families and loved ones. Speirs was exceptionally good at looting. He had boxes full of things for his family. They were going to be loaded!

One night, some of them stayed up late, drinking.

They had schnapps, couple of bottles of wine and various other types of alcohol.

"What's this?" Malarkey asked, picking up a bottle.

"Just schnapps". Someone replied.

He took a long sip and shook his head, pulling a face.

Murphy took the bottle from his hands, giving it a sniff.

"That's not schnapps". She mumbled.

Soon, Malarkey started to flail his arms around.

Some of them started to laugh, figuring Malarkey just hated the taste.

But Murphy sensed something was wrong.

Not only was he flapping his arms around like a frightened bird, but his lips were turning blue.

"He can't breathe!" She exclaimed.

"Oh, shit!"

Floyd got up and tossed him onto the bed, while he practically jumped onto his chest.

Murphy ran over to them, knocking over bottles of schnapps and whiskey.

It was horrible, she thought they were going to lose him.

"Do it again!" She told Floyd.

He did it around three times and Malarkey soon gasped loudly and shot forward.

Murphy's shoulders dropped and she rubbed his back.

"Malark?" She asked him quietly.

He was breathing again, though looked a little wide-eyed.

"What the hell was that?!" Floyd demanded, snatching the bottle. "It's wood alcohol!"

Murphy took the bottle from Floyd and poured it down the sink.

"We're not doing that again". She mumbled.

Besides from that incident, life was pretty tame.

They had a few patrols across the river, flushed out some Germans from houses but that was pretty much it. Murphy hadn't fired a single shot since France.

After outpost, she went and got James and Tom.

And then, Murphy was left with not much else to do.

It was dark, when she walked back from outpost after Tom and James took over. Murphy was thinking about supper, she wondered who was cooking that night. Perconte and Luz had promised to grab more food in a few days, they had there sources though never said where. Not that they cared, it was food – they were starving.

When she walked inside the house, she hung up her jacket, took off her boots and wondered into the kitchen. On the stove was a pot, someone had made stew. Licking her lips, she grabbed a large spoon and scooped up a serving, before placing it into a bowl. It was still bubbling away in the giant pot and it smelt wonderful. Perconte must have made this batch, he was always the best cook but not as good as Guarnere. He was an excellent cook. She wouldn't tell Perconte that though, he'd never cook again.

Murphy ate the last of her meal and washed up, before putting the bowl and spoon back.

The house was empty, the guys were either on OP, looting or drinking.

She turned off the stove and made her way up the stairs.

Upon entering the bedroom, Murphy saw that the window was wide open. God, they always did this when they smoked and then forgot to close it again. Shivering, Murphy closed the window and contemplated on taking a bath, they could do that now, have baths and shower whenever they wanted. But that idea soon went out the window, when something crashed through hers.

It could have been a rock or a stone.

But one moment, Murphy was standing and then next, she was lying on the ground.

The impact, just like any other shell from a mortar, was loud and ear piercing.

Glass scattered all around her, the wall from the side of the bedroom collapsed both in and outside the house. Bricks were tossed everywhere, Murphy had to quickly cover her head with her hands, to save herself from a serious injury. She could see the flashes of light from the impact through her closed eyes, it was a nightmare.

And Murphy screamed because she thought this might kill her.

The worst part, it wasn't a German mortar, it was theirs.

Troopers were getting drunk, with a crap ton of ammo. This wasn't the first time it happened, it just never happened to Murphy. And she laid there on the floor wondering; why?

Now their house was destroyed.

"Murphy!"

Lifting her head, she crawled towards the giant hole in the wall and looked down at the street.

It was Winters.

"Stay there! I'm coming up!"

Speirs was with him, they had probably heard the shell hit the house.

The bedroom door soon opened, Winters rushed to her side and knelt in front of her.

Placing his hands on the side of her face, he forced their eyes to meet.

"You're okay". Winters stated, as if assuring them both.

Murphy wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing their lips together.

Winters kissed her back, very firmly.

God, he thought he had lost her.

Murphy broke the kiss with a tiny whimper, before pressing her face against the crook of his neck. She wasn't hurt, the mortar didn't wound her, but the fear was intense because she hadn't been expecting that, not now, not here. Winters sighed quietly, wrapped his arms around her.

"It's okay, sweetheart". He said softly, "you're okay".

Speirs was just standing there, eyes not knowing where to look.

"Well, I – I'll go see about finding you guys another house".

When he left, the couple remained on the ground.

"You can stay with me tonight". Winters whispered.

Murphy nodded into his neck, "okay".

It didn't matter how peaceful things were, war still followed them.

Winters was still holding her tightly, he could feel her body shaking.

It worried him a great deal. Mortars had always been a fearful piece of weaponry but even after a blast, he had never seen Murphy shake or show much sign of fear. Not even in Bastogne, when they were being shelled almost daily and nightly. So, having her shake in his arms, it worried and broke his heart. The fear was pretty intense, even her teeth were chattering together.

Murphy took in a few deep breaths, trying to get to grips on the fear.

"Better?" Winters asked her quietly.

She gave a small nod.

Pulling back from his neck, Murphy looked at him.

"I'm honestly fine".

Winters eyes softened into hers.

He kissed her forehead, "I know, sweetheart".

"I just wasn't expecting it". Murphy mumbled, "not now, anyway".

He sighed softly, "me neither, Murphy".

…

It was another night where Murphy, Grant, Martin and Christenson all got a little too drunk.

She could have sworn she made a promise not to get this drunk again.

But in any case, Murphy was too drunk to care.

Hanging on Grant's arm was this beautiful German young woman.

And the five of them were all staggering and tripping up on the street.

They made quite the entrance, walking into the house.

Murphy and Christenson tried to get in through the door at the same time, which resulted in them both falling onto the ground, while Martin walked over their backs, like they were a door mat. Grant laughed and stepped over them, while the German woman was promptly picked up by Grant and carried away up the stairs.

Because they had to move to a new house, this one only had a few bedrooms.

Murphy shared a room with Grant, Malarkey and Popeye.

Her bed was right by Grant's feet. She'd often complain about his smelly socks in the morning. Grant was busy at the moment, making-out with this German girl in his bed. Malarkey's head was buried into the pillow, while Popeye slept on, not noticing anything. Murphy was too drunk to realise what they were doing. She sat on the edge of her bed, kicking off her boots and pulling her jacket off.

After, she sat and stared at Grant, just making out his body in the darkness.

Sighing quietly, Murphy reached towards his feet and pulled off his socks.

Grant chuckled. "Murph!"

Still not realising what was going on, she grabbed a hold of his foot.

"Quit it!" He laughed.

Frowning, Murphy yanked on his foot again and ended up falling onto the ground.

From that position, she reached for the blanket and pulled it right off.

Grant was still laughing, though the German girl was clearly embarrassed.

And the horror on Murphy's face – she looked like a frightened puppy.

Grabbing Grant's socks, she staggered onto her feet.

"Oh, I'm sorry". Murphy whispered, before leaving the room.

The next morning, she woke up under a pile of cushions and blankets.

It was like she had tried to make a fort, though it failed and collapsed while she slept.

God, drunk Murphy was an odd person.

A crack of light soon came from above one of the cushions and Luz's face appeared.

"Oh, there you are". He grinned, "we were looking for you, Murph".

Murphy frowned, "what the hell happened?"

Luz chuckled, "plenty of fun, Murph. You had a great night".

Slowly, she sat up, Luz helped her move everything off her body.

And then she noticed the socks in her hands, "why am I holding socks?"

"Beats me, Murph". Luz replied smoothly, "they smell?"

Murphy didn't even have to smell them, "oh – I think they belong to Chuck".

Her eyes soon widened, in a very comical way.

"Oh…shit".

It was a good thing they all had a sense of humour. And of course, word got around and Murphy was known as the sock snatcher for a good day and a half. Heffron got such a good kick out of it, he laughed very hard. Out of all the people who laughed, he laughed the hardest.

"I need to tell Bill!"

"Don't you bloody dare!"

Grant was funny with her too, "you looked like a wounded puppy". He grinned, "just sitting there, looking all frightened and shit".

Murphy was never drinking again.

But of course, a couple of nights after, they all had bottles of alcohol.

Only this time, she really didn't drink ever again.

Murphy had a lot to drink that night, the most in her entire life.

She was necking back schnapps, wine and Cognac.

When she stood up, Murphy fell back down again and crashed into the table. All the bottles of alcohol on that table crashed along with her. The others laughed, they were too buzzed to know any different. And then, she started choking. Lying on your back, while vomiting was probably the most frightening experience of her life. She couldn't breathe and Murphy felt like she was drowning. Though still extremely drunk, Murphy would never forget it.

Malarkey grabbed her and sat her up. Vomit went everywhere, it projected out of her like a hose, it was horrible. And she was still choking because her fear of getting sick and even though she was drunk, Murphy was still aware of this fear. And seeing her still choking, some one started to slap her back, frightened she was about to die.

It was never ending, Murphy was vomiting for thirty minutes straight.

Her whole body ached, she was shaking pretty bad too.

When it ended, Murphy was in a world of pain.

Her stomach, mostly. And everything just felt so tight and uncomfortable. Malarkey was rubbing her back, while she sat up, eyes barely open. And someone started to tip water into her mouth. She didn't know who it was, but Murphy guzzled that water down quickly. She leaned into Malarkey's side, beginning to hiccup.

Grant snorted, "alright…we'll just clean up, huh?"

The next morning, Murphy woke up in her bed.

She laid there for a good ten minutes because the room was spinning, and her stomach felt terrible. Murphy remembered bis of last night, she remembered getting sick but that was about it. Slowly, she sat up and got out of bed. Which was probably a stupid idea. Because soon, she collapsed onto the ground. The thump woke Malarkey, Grant and Popeye up.

Grant reached her side first, carefully rolling her onto her side. "We need a medic".

"I'll go". Popeye was already getting dressed, "is she okay?"

"She'll be fine, Pop".

Murphy opened her eyes a few seconds after Popeye left.

While lying on the ground, it took her a few moments to realise why she was on the floor.

Malarkey gave her a tiny smile, "hey, Murph".

Slowly, she sat up, Grant took a hold of her waist, supporting her.

"How're you feeling?" He asked.

Murphy ran a hand down her face, shaking her head.

Malarkey sighed quietly, "yeah…we're getting doc. Maybe he'll know what to do, huh?"

Gene instructed her to spend the day in bed with plenty of fluids.

He even threatened her a trip to the hospital.

"No". Murphy said, "I just won't drink alcohol again".

And she made everyone swear not to tell Winters.

That man would go crazy if he found out.

So, Murphy spent the day in bed, feeling miserable.

She had a lot of water but was never short on company.

Malarkey sat with her for most of the day, they'd talk about his home and when he used to pick blackberries from the bushes with his gran. His gran had sadly passed away while they were in England. Murphy didn't know that, he never did share much. In fact, Murphy didn't know much about Malarkey. He was always very quiet, kept things to himself. While others loved talking about their families and home, Malarkey didn't over share.

"Here, look".

Murphy handed him the photo of her mother and twin brothers.

Malarkey smiled, "hey…that's a nice house, Murph".

She smiled back, "yeah, sure looks it, eh?"

"They're doing good, huh?"

"Yeah". Murphy placed the photo back into her jacket pocket.

Malarkey cleared his throat, "even after your dad-"

"especially after, pal". She cut him off softly, with a tiny smile.

Sighing, he laid down next to her.

Murphy looked at him, "what?"

Malarkey shook his head, "been some ride, huh?"

She snorted, "what? The war?"

"Yeah, Murph". He mumbled quietly, "Toccoa…that was a lifetime ago".

Murphy rubbed her lips together, looking back up at the ceiling.

"You think Joe will be okay?" She asked him softly.

"I do, yeah". Malarkey replied, "you think about that too, huh?"

She sighed, "after Hughes…I thought about Aaron Kieth".

He frowned a little, "me too, Murph".

"We just had to keep going and going". Murphy whispered, "like this never-ending spiral. We didn't have time to process anything. And then one day, we all just fall apart, Malark. Because people forget that although we're soldiers, we're still human. You know?"

Malarkey was quiet.

He placed his hand on top of hers and nodded.

"Yeah, Murph". He said softly, "I get it".

She swallowed, "there's only so much someone can take, we all have that breaking point".

Malarkey took in a tiny breath.

"For Buck, it was seeing his two best friends getting blown-up".

He cleared his throat, "yeah".

Murphy turned to face him again, "they wrote on the report he had trench foot".

"I know". Malarkey whispered, "they wouldn't – no one can understand, Murph".

She squeezed his hand, "no one but us, Malark. Do you know". Murphy cleared her throat, "I found the hardest moment, was telling you about – yeah, that".

His jaw twitched.

Murphy frowned, "I didn't know if I did it well, Malark". She whispered, "but I realised, none of it was going to be easy. No matter what I said, it was always going to end up that way".

Malarkey sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you have to understand why I did it". She whispered, "and you're my friend – Christ, I love you Malark. And I told you because of that reason".

Swallowing back the tightness in his throat, he eventually looked at her.

Malarkey gave a tiny nod, "I'm glad you told me".

Sighing shakily, Murphy nodded and leaned into his side.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, Malark?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saving me". She said, "you pulled me up in the forest".

Malarkey huffed, with a tiny smile. "Hey…you're welcome, Murph".

Later that night, Murphy decided to write a letter to Toye.

 _"Dear Joe,_

 _I'm not sure where to start on this one, if I'm honest. A lot has happened since you left, which I'm sure Bill has already told you, so, I'll keep this one as fresh as I can._

 _Currently, I'm lying in bed because I drank too much, and I almost died from puking so much. And as you know – the only one who knows, that's my greatest fear. Thankfully, I was too drunk to realise my fear, but I could feel it nagging in the back of my head. So, doc told me to take it easy and Malark's been keeping my company all day. Finally got the soft arse to bed._

 _How're you doing? Bill's been telling me you've both been driving the nurses mad. Well, at least you guys are keeping yourselves entertained. You'll be happy to know that your squad is still up and running, though Jim got promoted, so we got Eddie, he's a good guy, you'd like him. You remember Eddie? Well, he's Babe's new assistant. Though, we haven't actually been doing much fighting over here. But a mortar did almost get me the other day, was one of our own. Some drunk kids set it off, you and Bill would have killed them, probably._

 _It's funny, me and Malark were just talking about you. Well, it's not very funny. We just hope you're doing okay, Joe. I miss you a lot. Bill already knows how much I miss him. And when I get home, I'll come by and see you – straight away. You've always been there for me, I hope I can be there for you too. I know you're probably down about things, Joe but honestly, you've turned me into a fine rifle-girl. And without your guidance and constant support, I wouldn't have been promoted to Sargent. I learned a lot from you. You and Bill have been my brothers, always on my case about everything. And sure, it annoyed the shit out of me, but I miss it more now than anything._

 _Remember, you shine brighter than anyone else, Joe Toye._

 _Love you,_

 _Murph"._

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy then decided to open up her mother's letters.

 _"Dear Murphy,_

 _I don't know if you're still in that forest or not, but it's been all over the papers. My friend from Brooklyn, she wrote to me the other day and said she saw you on the movie screen before the film started to play. I am so very proud of you, pet, if not worried as well. That forest, it didn't sound very good and I can't imagine all the pain you went through during that time. And I just hope to God you're safer now._

 _No news is good news, that's what Granny tells me. I haven't heard much from you, in fact, you haven't written me one letter back, but I understand why you're doing this. You've never been good being away from home. And I just know you're safe because you're strong and smart. But, pet, will you write back to me this time?_

 _Now, your brothers are doing just fine. They'll both being going to school in the Summer of '45. Can you believe it, pet? I know I can't. And they haven't forgotten about their big sister. I keep on telling them that you'll come and see them once this war ends. And it will, Murphy. You're going to win this war, I just know it. The three of us will be waiting for you, in our new home._

 _I love you very much, pet. We're all very proud of you._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Mammy, Robbie and Conor_

 _Xxxx"._

Chewing on her bottom lip, Murphy brought out another piece of paper.

 _"Dear Mammy,_

 _When I heard that you were moving into a new house, it almost broke me down to tears. And when you sent me that photo, I did almost cry – right inside a convent too. That was just after the forest and we were all tired. Our first night indoors after almost a month was inside that convent, in this town in France. We fought to the point of exhaustion, mammy. We didn't have winter clothes, we were frozen, and we lost a lot of friends._

 _When I was promoted to Sargent, I was so sure my rifle squad would see it through until the end, but I lost them. I lost Jason Hughes to the forest and Eugene Jackson to a pointless patrol. It's been a very rough time. But for those of us who remain, we're still holding Easy together. I can't wait for you to meet my friends, mammy. You'll love them. Babe and Malarkey are Irish, and we have a couple more as well. But most importantly, I can't wait for you to meet Major Winters. Now, mammy, don't be mad, okay? But I fell in love. I am deeply, madly and truly in love with him. It would take more than one page to describe how I feel about this man. He's truly remarkable._

 _We fell in love during training and shared our first kiss in Normandy. We're going to get married after the war and together, we'll live on a farm and raise a beautiful family. If it wasn't for this man, I would have died long ago. For the thought of dying and being apart from him, is my deepest fear. And in those moments, where I want to give up, I simply think about our farm, which is sitting there waiting for us to own and live out the rest of our days together"._

Murphy wiped a tear from her cheek, before continuing.

 _"Mammy, I can't move back to Ireland. So many haunting moments from my past live there and my future is in America, with Winters. But that doesn't mean I won't be coming home to see you once this war ends. I hope you can understand. My life doesn't belong to Ireland, it belongs to that farm. And for right now, it belongs to Easy._

 _I'm glad you and the twins are doing well. And yeah, that is weird that they'll be in school soon. But they'll get a good education and if you ever need anything, let me know, okay?_

 _I'll close this letter for now. It's getting late and I have to get up early tomorrow._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Murphy_

 _Xxxx"._


	41. Chapter 41

Nixon had made a jump into Berlin with the 17th Airborne troops.

He made it off the plane, two others got out, but the rest died.

They took a direct hit over the drop-zone.

And Nixon was now back as Battalion Staff, he had been demoted. Though, didn't seem bothered about it at all. From what Winters told her, Nixon didn't like it up at Regiment anyway and Winters was more than happy to have him back. Welsh too, who was servng as Winters intelligence officer. Nixon was the operations officer. Winters had a lot of officers working for him, he was a very busy man.

One morning, she woke up in his bed.

Which was fine, she had slipped inside his bedroom the previous night. Winters didn't notice her come in, until she jumped on top of him.

"Surprise!"

"Jesus – Murphy!"

It was pretty funny, he got the shock of his life. And they had a great night together.

When they woke up, Murphy snuggled into his side, not intending on leaving the bed.

Winters kissed her head, "I have to-"

"no". She moaned, "no – you stay".

Murphy placed his hand back onto her hair.

Chuckling quietly, he shook his head. "Sweetheart, I have a meeting this-"

"cancel it".

"I can't cancel it-"

"tell them I'm sick". Murphy said, voice quiet and soft.

Winters pulled an amused face, "you know, I'm not sure how well Colonel Sink would take the news, Murphy".

"I'm very important". She mumbled, eyes still closed. "I'm a valuable person to this Company. If I'm sick, then everyone gets a day off".

He smiled, kissing the top of her hair again. "That's very true, sweetheart. However-"

She sighed, "oh, no".

Winters chuckled again, "however…Sink has no idea about us. And I'm not sure today is a good day to break it to him".

Murphy snuggled further into his side, "well…tell him you couldn't make it because you were taken hostage".

"Very creative, sweetheart".

She giggled lightly, "mighty kind of you".

There came a knock on his door, "sir?"

Murphy gasped and quickly pulled the blanket over her body, while Winters jumped out of bed and grabbed her clothes, pushing them under the bed, while he rushed around getting dressed.

"Sir? It's Loyd".

Buttoning up the last from his shirt, Winters pushed back his hair.

"Yup? Come in, Captain".

Captain Cox walked inside the room, "morning, sir".

Winters cleared his throat, smoothing down his shirt. "Morning, Loyd".

"Here's a rota for today's meeting, sir". He handed him a sheet of paper, "Colonel Sink is leading this briefing".

"Yes, Loyd". Winters said, while looking down at the paper.

Meaning, Murphy felt something tickle her nose.

It was a feather, poking out from the pillow.

And God, did she try not to sneeze.

"Ac-ho!"

Murphy laid there, in absolute horror.

Winters pretended he didn't hear a thing, while Loyd looked straight towards the bed.

Clearing his throat, the Major gave his exclusive officer a kind smile, "thank you, Loyd".

Frowning a little, Cox nodded slowly. "I'll – uh – I'll see you down there, sir".

The two of them saluted, Cox left highly amused.

When the door closed, Winters started to laugh.

Murphy pulled the blanket off her face, looking at him.

"I don't think I've ever sneezed so hard!"

Laughing still, he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"God, I love you, Murphy Flynn".

Murphy smiled, "love you too".

He then placed her clothes on the side of the bed, "alright, sweetheart. You have a lecture with Captain Nixon shortly".

"Oh – I almost forgot!" She said, grabbing her shirt. "Did he get a newspaper?"

"He did". Winters confirmed, while combing his hair in front of the mirror.

"Are we leaving this place soon?"

"I suppose we will be, yeah". Winters said, "we're heading towards Bavaria".

Murphy frowned, "come again?"

He snorted and cleared his throat, "Alps, sweetheart".

"Oh, lovely". She mumbled, "what's in the Alps?"

"Plenty". Winters smirked, turning to face her. "You'll find out soon enough".

…

It was a few days later.

Murphy was with Webster, who was helping her with checking the ammo.

Tom and James hadn't fired a single shot, she'd made sure of that.

"I'm telling you, Murph". Webster said, "they didn't disobey your order".

"You can never be to careful, pal". She mumbled, "how's life here, anyway?"

"Fine". He replied lightly, "Jan's a cool guy, you'd like him".

Murphy looked at him, "is that the guy who Speirs caught having-"

"yup, that's right".

She snorted, looking back down at the ammo.

Webster grinned, "you know, Speirs never told him off for that".

"He probably has better things to do". She said with a shrug, "Janovek didn't kill anyone, he just had sex with a German".

"Yeah, true". He laughed quietly.

And speaking of the man, Janovek walked inside the room.

His face was pulled down into a deep frown.

Murphy looked at him, "what's the matter, Jan?"

Sighing, he took off his helmet. "Presidents dead".

Webster dropped the ammo he was holding, "what?"

"Yeah". He whispered, "just found out".

Murphy bit her lip.

"Said he had a stroke from all the stress".

"Jesus". Webster whispered, shaking his head.

"Sorry, lads". She told them with a frown, "that's rough".

It was a bit of a bummer for some.

The guys stayed pretty quiet that day, they really did admire Roosevelt for all he had done. He got America through the depression and almost got them to the end of the war. Murphy thought he was a swell president.

Murphy was sleeping on the couch later that night.

Most of the guys were tucked up in bed, afraid to move her in case she woke up.

Though, something did wake her up.

 _Crash!_

Murphy shot forward and fell off the couch. For a moment, she thought it was a mortar, but no loud explosion came after. Placing a hand over her racing heart, Murphy got onto her feet and headed outside. It was pouring with rain, she should have put her jacket on but never thought about it. Looking around, she spotted someone marching up the road.

Murphy looked from the shattered glass window from the shop and then back towards the figure walking away. Putting two and two together, she soon ran to catch up with him.

"Hey!"

The figure stopped and turned around.

Murphy's eyes widened, "Captain Nixon?"

Nixon sighed, "don't – don't tell anyone about that, alright?"

Frowning, she looked back towards the window and nodded. "Yeah, alright".

"Thanks".

Sighing, she was soon pushed to the side by the MP's, who started to investigate the scene.

Biting down on her lip, Murphy ran towards him.

"Want company?"

Sighing, Nixon looked down at her.

 _What the hell?_

"Sure". He shrugged, "know a place?"

"For drink?" Murphy asked, "sure I do, sir".

Nixon was smiling small, "lead the way, Sargent".

Murphy, the little devil that she was, broke into a house. Stepping inside, she turned on her flashlight and led the way towards the living room. There was a drinking cabinet and just by a stroke of luck, Nixon found what he was looking for.

"Dammit – Dick's lucky to have you, Murph".

She didn't understand, not really. But he did hold that bottle of Vat 69, like it was a newborn baby. Well, now that she was here, Murphy sat on the couch after grabbing a small bottle of schnapps. Bottoms up, she thought, before taking a hard sip.

"I almost choked on vomit last time I drank this 'fecking stuff".

Nixon huffed, "please don't do that". He said, "Dick will kill me".

Murphy nodded, "don't even mention to him that I'm drinking".

"Alright, deal".

There was silence in the room for a moment.

"You were trying to find the Vat?"

"I was". Nixon nodded, before taking a swig. "Didn't even think to look down this street. Thought I'd checked every damn house in Germany".

Murphy smiled a little, amused. "Ah – it's always the ones you least expect, sir".

"Yeah, it is". He mused, "funny you said that – it reminds of something I said to Dick".

"Yeah?"

Nixon nodded, "yeah…back in training, when we did that march to Atlanta".

Murphy rubbed her lips together, she remembered that march.

"He wondered why we hadn't noticed you, you know?" Nixon sighed, "was like some sort of magic trick, you just popped up out of nowhere".

"I'm just good at being invisible". Murphy said quietly.

Nixon snorted, "you know, Dick asked me to be his best man".

"He hasn't even asked me to marry him yet".

He laughed, loudly.

Murphy grinned.

Nixon cleared his throat, "I hope you say yes, already written out the speech".

She chuckled quietly, "is that right, sir?"

He nodded, taking another sip.

"Yeah…I'll say yes". Murphy replied, "I'll say it over and over again, until he's sick of the word".

Nixon smiled, "ah, you're the perfect couple. Pretty opposite, didn't think he'd go for a drinker".

Lips twitching, she looked down at the bottle.

"Well, he has you for a best friend".

"True". Nixon sighed, "we're nothing a like, not really".

There came the sound of footsteps from up the stairs.

Murphy wasn't bothered by this.

"This house is occupied". Nixon stated.

She nodded, "yeah". Murphy said to him, "that's why I broke in, sir".

He laughed, "you're crazy, Murph".

"Oh, you just get used to it all, sir". Murphy said, "you know, not giving a shit what belongs to who. The guys loot, I don't say anything. Cause it makes them happy".

"Yeah, think we're all past caring by this point, Murph".

She looked around the room, "these guys? No, I don't care about the locals, sir".

Nixon took another drink before asking, "you think they died as heroes?"

"Who, sir?"

"The 17th guys". He said, staring at the bottle. "You think they died as heroes?"

Murphy shrugged, "I think they died doing something brave, sir".

His lips twitched, into a tiny smile.

"Like, we're all 'fecking nuts". She went on, "totally insane. We've done some pretty crazy stuff out here, sir".

"Brave?" Nixon asked quietly.

Murphy nodded, staring at her hands.

He looked at her again, "you excited for this to all end?"

She frowned a little, "I'm excited to marry Dick". Murphy said, "but…I'm sort of scared".

"Of marrying him?"

Murphy shook her head, "no, God, no – no, I mean like…living like a normal person, you know? Being with people who weren't here".

Nixon nodded slowly, looking back down at the bottle.

"Yeah, that's 'gotta be weird, huh?"

"You bet, sir". She whispered, taking another drink.

Murphy pulled a face, shuddering.

"God, I hate this stuff".

…

The next morning, they were getting ready to move out.

Three hundred thousand Germans had surrendered that morning.

It was crazy, they couldn't believe the large number. Because they'd never dream of surrendering. Not even in Bastogne or back in Holland, they never thought about it. Murphy didn't understand it, she was just glad they were starting to surrender, it meant this war was ending and they could all get back home, back to normality.

"Murph – need a hand?"

"Oh, thanks, Chuck".

Now, they were packing up the trucks.

Murphy had placed a lot of bags into the truck, sliding them under the benches. Because the guys had been looting, some of them kept a hold of the items they had found instead of sending the items back, meaning the bags were a lot heavier than usual. It was sweaty work, especially now that the weather was getting a lot warmer.

"Jesus Christ". She whispered, while placing a bag down. "These just get heavier".

Grant laughed, "yeah – we've been busy, Murph".

"It's my dog! She's taking my dog!"

Frowning, Murphy looked over at Nixon, who had soon thrown his helmet on to the ground.

He's was obviously mad about something. Though, looked a little upset as well.

Grant cleared his throat, "alright, pack it up!" He called to the rest of 2nd.

Murphy sat herself down on the bench, while others soon joined her.

As soon as those trucks started to move off, Easy and the 506 broke out into a song.

Everyone was singing, even Murphy. She loved a good song with Easy, it reminded her of those times in their foxholes, when all they had was singing to lift their morale. And it reminded her of Toye, who always sang something to make everyone feel better. Though, she wasn't a very good singer, as her friends would often point out. But it didn't stop her.

"Murphy! Do that Irish one".

"No". She refused, "no, you all just made fun of it".

 _"For they're hanging men and women for the wearing for the green._

 _For the wearing of the green._

 _For the wearing of the green"._

Heffron sang, with a large grin.

The others chuckled.

"Man…that was funny, huh?" Grant said.

"It's not meant to be funny". Murphy told him, "it was meant to be – I 'dunno, a thinking song, you know?"

"Murph, it was funny". Popeye said, "don't deny it".

Guys started to talk about home and what they planned to do. Most wanted to marry their sweethearts or find a nice girl to settle down with. There was talk of finding work, going back to an old job or finishing collage. All Murphy wanted to do was marry Winters, the rest didn't matter so much to her.

"Oh, I'm 'gonna have a ton of babies". She told Malarkey, "they're all 'gonna be freckled and cute as hell".

He grinned, "hey, that sounds great, Murph".

"What about you, Malark?"

He sighed, "finish college, get married – the usual".

Murphy leaned back against the side of the truck.

"I'll miss you lot, you know".

Malarkey smiled softly, "yeah, me too, Murph".

"Hey!" Grant soon tossed a Hershey's bar to the side of her face, "we've not left yet".

Smiling fondly, Murphy picked the bar up. "Thanks, Chuck".

No one could deny that Germany was a truly beautiful country. More so than Holland.

But they still considered the Dutch, the loveliest people they had encountered during the war.

They were so welcoming and happy to see the American troops entering the towns. And they always had something to offer them; food, drink, blankets and a helping hand. Murphy felt very fortunate to have visited these countries, though most of them didn't hold good memories. A few years back, she'd have never dreamed of going on a plane. She never imagined herself fighting along the very best and having the very best be her friend. And better yet, she never imagined falling in love with the greatest person she had ever met and having him love her back.

It was funny how the world worked.

And looking at all of them now, laughing and relaxing. It was like watching a movie.

A movie with a happy ending.

For some. She thought, remembering Nixon.

This happy moment in the truck, it didn't mask completely how badly they wanted to go home. Everyone was tired of war, they were tired of watching friends die. For Murphy, she was tired of shooting, she couldn't wait to retire her rifle. Though, it had done a good job of saving her life.

They drove into the night and took rest in an apparent block building.

Everyone was rushing to get the locals out.

They were annoyed and maybe a little frightened.

"Alright – you have four minutes!" Speirs told the Germans, "it's only for one night!"

The kids were the most scared, while the mothers ushered them out of the house.

Well, at least they had a place to sleep.

Murphy didn't care, no one did. It's just how the war worked. You wouldn't care either, if you had been fighting these Germans for almost two years and been through some of the toughest situation anyone could have gone through.

In the morning, they headed back onto the road.

It felt like this journey was never-ending.

Murphy was half asleep during the journey.

Her head fell onto Liebgott's shoulder, who was busy tossing a baseball up into the air and catching again with one hand. Luz was on her other side, reading over the newspaper they had been given just the other day. It was a very quiet and relaxed journey though Germany. She was missing the three hundred thousand Germans marching on the opposite side of the road. They marched with horses and carts. It was a very unreal sight.

However, her peaceful sleep was rudely awakened.

"Hey, you!" Webster yelled, standing up. "That's right, you stupid Kraut bastards! That's right!"

Murphy opened her eyes and pulled away from Liebgott's shoulder.

"Say hello to Ford and general fucking motors! You stupid fascist pigs! Look at you! You have horses! What were you thinking?!"

Before Murphy could chew his head off, Gracia grabbed him and pulled him back down.

"That's enough Webster give it a rest".

Webster shook his head, "dragging our asses halfway across the world. Interrupting our lives – and for what?!" He was back on his feet again, "you ignorant, servile scum! What the fuck are we doing here?!"

Pulling a tiny grimace, Murphy leaned forwards, just a fraction and saw Winters and Nixon in the jeep behind them. God, Webster had better not have gotten her into trouble. She could see Winters lips twitch, just a little – oh, good, maybe it would be alright. However, she'd know what Guarnere would have done.

"Hey, Web?"

Webster sighed, looking up from his hands.

"Good choice of words, collage boy".

A few of them chuckled.

Murphy gave Webster a small smile, "you okay?"

"Murph, look I'm-"

"don't say sorry to me, pal". She said softly, "it's good that you can stand up for yourself, you know? I don't see anyone else ballsy enough to yell at three hundred thousand Krauts, do you?"

Webster smiled a little, "guess not, huh?"

"Yeah, good". Murphy said, "but if you ever wake me up again – I'll fecking shoot you, alright?"

He smiled wider now, "yes, Sarge".

"Good lad".

The journey proceeded without any more outbursts from Webster.

They did catch a few Nazi soldiers getting shot.

It was the Polish who were shooting them.

O'Keeffe, he looked a little pale in the face from witnessing it.

And Liebgott grinned, while he continued to toss his baseball.

"Don't feel bad, pal". Murphy told him.

His wide eyes landed on her. "What did they do?"

"Well…when I spoke to Kacper-"

"who?" Luz asked, while lighting a cigarette.

"That Polish guy Babe found". She said, "anyway – Kacper said the Germans were terrible, basically killed most of the Poles, or made them fight along side the SS. But he did mention the Kapo's, we're unsure of who they are but they're supposedly worse than the SS".

O'Keeffe cleared his throat, shifting a little in his seat. "So…they deserved to get shot?"

Murphy shrugged, "best not to think about it, Paddy. You'll get a bunch of questions you can't answer, you know?"

"You took the words right out of Bill's mouth, huh?" Liebgott grinned, giving her arm a nudge.

She sighed, "unfortunately, all the best advice comes from that devil".

They stopped off in a near by village of Landsberg.

It was a very quiet place, most of the locals were either tucked inside their houses or had left completely. Winters and Speirs started to move locals out from their homes, before they assigned each Company to patrol a certain part of the village. 1st and 2nd were to take the woods, 3rd were to swing around. While Dog looked around the town and Fox patrolled the other part of the woods.

They didn't have much time to get settled in.

Murphy grabbed her squads and they headed into the woods.

It was very quiet, peaceful even.

She didn't expect anything to happen, though had her guys spread out anyway.

Tom and James were very eager. It looked like they were ready for pretty much anything. Murphy should have trained them harder, they were making too much noise.

"You two have 'gotta be quiet". Eddie warned them, "Sarge hates noise".

Tom frowned, "we ain't making-"

"your feet are too loud". Heffron told him, "you keep stepping on branches and shit".

Murphy smiled a little sadly.

She remembered giving the same talk to Jackson and Hughes.

"Are in we danger?" James whispered, eyes hardening, "cause we're ready".

Murphy sighed, "oh, I'm sure you are, pal".

They progressed further into the woods.

Murphy wondered when to stop and turn back around.

And after taking a few turns here and there, she decided to call it a day. There was nothing threatening in this forest and nothing to report back apart from; "it was quiet, nothing there". She led her squads back towards the village, other patrols were returning as well, mostly from 2nd and 3rd Platoons, Christenson's guys still weren't back but Martin was.

"Pretty tame, huh?"

Murphy nodded, "this whole place is quiet, Johnny".

Martin nodded, looking around. "You thinking bad?"

"I'm thinking unusual". She said, "all the other towns were packed with locals cleaning up".

"True". He sighed.

Murphy checked her watch, "rest should be getting back soon?"

"Yeah, I think so".

To pass the time until their next order, she got her squad settled into a house. It was another grand house for her boys, while the Toccoa men all squished into a moderately sized house. They didn't know how long they were staying in Landsberg for, but Murphy overheard that it wouldn't be longer than a couple of days.

Ah well, always the best for her boys, despite how short their stay was.

Murphy left the house, about to find an officer for further order. When Perconte raced right by her, like a rocket. She frowned, a tiny bit curious and ended up chasing after him. He was heading straight for Winters, who was walking out of Battalion. Murphy stopped running, she couldn't hear what they were saying but Perconte looked a lot paler and worried that usual.

Worried that something had happened to their squad, Murphy was about to walk over.

"Speirs! Easy's moving out!" Winters called out.

She frowned; _where the hell are we going now?_


	42. Chapter 42

Throughout the entire European war, they had thought they had seen the worst of it in Bastogne. For them, that was their toughest time in war, living outside in freezing weather, with constant shelling's and only just getting out of their alive. Easy didn't think they'd see anything worse that the things they saw in that forest. But then they came to Landsberg and uncovered a very dark and horrific secret.

You always know why you're fighting. You're fighting to end a war and to stop one tiny man, who's more or less painted as this villain from a comic. He's trying to take over the world and you're out there, trying to stop him. And the only way to do that, is by taking down his armies and followers.

But the world isn't painted in black and white. Between those colours, you have this grey area. And that's what Easy discovered, the grey area.

For all the shit they had seen, a sight more horrific played out in front of them.

Though, still ten minutes away from the grey area, only Perconte knew and the rest followed him behind a jeep, in trucks. They brought along everyone from Easy, medics included. They didn't know what to expect, Winters didn't know what the expect because Perconte couldn't tell him, he couldn't find the words to explain what his patrol had found.

Murphy looked at her squad, staring at Tom and James.

Whatever they were about to walk into, it couldn't have been anything easy.

So, she was a little worried for her boy's state of mind.

Not so much with Heffron, Eddie and Webster, she knew they'd be fine.

But Tom and James. Murphy was most worried about them.

There were a few signs during the journey.

As they got closer, birds stopped singing, smoke appeared and there was a horrible smell. It reminded Murphy of a house she had stepped into as a child back in Ireland. The house was riddled with mold and a decaying animal corpse in the corner of the room. Only, times that by one hundred. And as they rounded a corner, this strange place came into view.

It was a large plot of land, with a high fence surrounding it.

Barbed wire was rolled up at the top and inside, were many of triangular huts, which looked to be buried at least five feet into the ground. The smoke was thicker as well, and the smell got a lot worse. It was starting to smell like something was burning, like rotten meat. Tom ended up puking inside the truck, no one raised an eyebrow. Heffron gave his back a rub.

"It's alright, Tom".

Everyone was getting off the truck now.

Murphy could see now, the men inside this place.

They were thin, hallow.

The men were so thin, that their heads looked huge compared to the rest of them. With large sunken in eyes, wide with terror and anguish. They all wore these stripped clothes, which looked like pyjamas. And they all had shaven heads, which they constantly scratched. Lice, it must have been lice. And Winters didn't even want to wait for someone to delouse the place, he just gave the order to open the gates up.

Murphy was standing with her squads, hand gripping onto Heffron's jacket.

It was a scary moment. Because you had to wonder about your state of mind. This was something you'd never forget. You'd never forget seeing your friends die but you'd never forget these men and where they had to live for the past five or so years.

You always think your worst day, is the worst day in the world. But then you come to a place like this and realise, they always had a day, worse than the next. They never had one good day in this place. They never got relief, they never got Mourmelon or Aldbourne. And Murphy felt guilty for having that relief.

When the gates opened, Winters stepped inside first.

The men were weary, they didn't know what was happening.

And as quick as you could blink, the men were soon grabbing his sleeve.

Easy weren't going to hurt them, they were on their side.

And that's the heartbreaking part. These men, they had only encountered enemy soldiers, they hadn't seen an allied trooper for such a long time. And now, Easy were walking into this camp, like a beacon of hope. They were here to liberate them.

Some men fell onto their knees, exhausted, close to death and relieved.

They cried for the first time in years, while having to suppress all emotions during their time in this camp. It was like a ball just dropped in on them, now they knew they were being liberated, they could finally grieve and come to terms for what happened to them.

The living cried and the dead remained in ditches.

Some of them were still burning, with others were pilled on top of each other, flopped carelessly on top of the next. The bodies were very pale, very skinny and their face were contorted into fear, which their mouths hanging open and eyes wide. Like the last thing they saw before death, was something so traumatic and terrorising.

Liebgott had found a man within this camp. He was going to translate for Winters.

Murphy stood a few feet away from them.

"He said the guards left this morning…they burned some of the huts first…with the prisoners still in them. Alive, sir".

"Jesus Christ". Nixon whispered.

"Some of the prisoners tried to stop them. Some of them were killed".

Murphy looked up at this man, who was rubbing his head.

He was distressed and on the verge of his breaking point.

You'd see it, Murphy had seen Buck do the exact same thing.

"They didn't have enough ammo for all the prisoners…they killed as many as they could…before they left camp. They locked the gates behind them and headed south".

Nixon looked over at Winters, "someone in town must have told them we were coming".

Liebgott nodded, "yeah, I think so".

"Will you ask him". Winters voice was incredibly soft and quiet, "will you ask him what kind of camp this is? Why – uh – why are they here?"

Liebgott looked back at the man and asked him.

"He said it's a work camp for…unerwuenschter. I'm not sure what that means". He said, "unwanted? Disliked, maybe?"

"Criminals?" Nixon asked.

Murphy never took her eyes off this man.

God, no. These men weren't criminals.

"I don't think criminals, sir". Liebgott asked the man anyway.

He shook his head.

"No". Liebgott said, "doctors, musicians, tailors, clerks, farmers, intellectuals. I mean, normal people".

"Juden. Juden". The man said.

Liebgott's face fell.

"They're Jews". He whispered, "Poles and Gypsies".

Murphy's heart fell.

The man was sobbing now, crying with so much angst and raw emotion.

Murphy hadn't heard anything like it.

She turned away from the officers and Liebgott and found her squad.

Lipton had told everyone to start caring for these men.

But all her guys wanted to know was;

"what is this place, Murph?" Webster asked.

"I don't know". Murphy whispered, "but these men…they're just normal people, Web. Have normal jobs. But they're who Hitler hates the most. Jews, the Polish, Gypsies".

A choked sob came from Eddie, "can you believe what man can to do man?"

Heffron wrapped his arm around Eddie's shoulders.

"They're my people".

Heffron had a few tears of his own now, "I know, Ed…I know, buddy".

Murphy swallowed and cleared her throat, "okay – we need to split up, help these men. Give them blankets, rations and water. Okay?"

Tom puked again.

"Tom?"

Nodding, he wiped his mouth. "Okay, Sarge".

"Web, go with Tom and James". Murphy said to him, "I'll stay with Babe and Eddie".

It took a few moments for Eddie to compose himself.

Heffron was rubbing the guys shoulder, holding him in a half-hug.

And when Eddie stopped crying, they moved further down the camp.

There were a lot of men, most looked inches from death. They tried to help them as best as they could, with water, little nibbles of chocolate and wrapping them up in blankets. Murphy was very careful, like these men would break as soon as someone touched them. Heffron and Eddie were very good with the men. She was proud of them.

Murphy saw a lot of her friends with tears that day.

It reminded her of when they lost Muck and Penkala.

They moved into the huts, helping the sick outside.

They shielded their eyes from the light, skin as white as snow.

Murphy wondered when they last saw the sun.

Gene and Ralph were busy, with a few other replacement medics. They tried to move the sick down towards the gate, where the medics had set up a little aid station. Most of the sick suffered with typhus, dysentery, Durchfall and tuberculosis. And on top of that, they had lice, were severely malnourished and dehydrated. The men had swollen legs, impaired vision, hearing loss and memory loss, all due to starvation. They were put here to work, to die from starvation. And they were stripped of everything they had, hair, clothes – anything that made them human. The camp commandants, they purposely did this, to make it easier for them.

How sick and twisted is that?

If you think of it like this; zoo keepers spend more money on their animals. These men in the camp, they had one bowl of watery soup a day. Which cost nothing. They were getting treated worse than animals. And the behaviour of each man, as the days go on with starvation, would change them dramatically. When your mind is plunged with survival mode, you do whatever you can to survive. In this camp, no one was meant to survive. Every corner was death, whether a camp guard trying to shoot you or the work you did day in and day out. The fact that hundreds of men were still alive, was remarkable. The fact that they had survived that winter, Easy went through, was a miracle.

"Come over here!"

Ralph beckoned them towards an abandoned train cart.

He pulled back the door. Inside was stacked with dead bodies.

The smell was overwhelming. Made you sick.

"Why the hell did you have to show me that?" Heffron whispered.

"We have to bury them, Babe". Ralph whispered.

Eddie fell onto his knees.

They were all Jews. You could tell from the yellow star on their clothes.

Murphy placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, let's bury them". She whispered, agreeing with the medic.

Murphy collected a handful of guys to help them out.

They had to show Winters first.

Murphy hadn't seen that look on his face before.

And he helped them take the bodies out of the train truck. She didn't know why they weren't let out, maybe they left and locked them inside to die. Whatever the case was, it was just as bad as the next. This whole place, it was hell.

Eddie said a prayer, to each of the pits in the camp.

A lot of prisoners joined Eddie in his Jewish prayer.

It was very emotional. But it was very moving, watching them all gather around each pit and say goodbye to fallen brothers. Murphy had to rub her eyes a few times. She left Eddie to it, while she took Heffron into another hut.

Turning on their flashlights, they walked inside the hut and checked to see if anyone was alive inside. Murphy didn't see anyone living but then, her light shone down on a very familiar face.

It was Kacper.

The breath had just knocked right out of her and the floor disappeared from her feet because she was sitting on the ground now, flashlight dropping down as well.

"Murph-"

"no, don't!"

She didn't want him seeing Kacper, the man they had tried to keep alive.

How the hell did he end up here?

Heffron stepped towards her.

And he lifted the light up towards one of the shelves and saw him.

"No". He moaned, in anguish. "Fuck – why?!"

Murphy shook her head, slowly getting onto her feet.

"Let's go, Babe". She croaked, grabbing his hand. "Come on, let's go".

They were both visibly shaken. But they had to keep going and help these men.

"Babe, you find Eddie".

"Okay". He croaked.

Murphy sat back down when he left, leaning against the side of the hut.

Eddie was still praying, Murphy knew Heffron would be okay.

She sat there and thought about Kacper.

The sweet Polish man they found in Holland.

Murphy wondered how he ended up here.

 _Why did he?_

He was just wanted to find his family. He just wanted to live, to protect them. Murphy felt tears fill her eyes, which eventually rolled down her face. They should have tried harder, she could have told them to keep Kacper under protection. But they had no idea this was going on. No idea, maybe other allied units did but not Easy Company, not 2nd Battalion.

"Get up, Murph – come on".

"I can't". Her voice broke, "Kacper's dead".

Nixon crouched in front of her, "these men need you, come on".

Murphy sniffed and nodded.

"Yeah – good, let's go". Nixon said to her softly.

Grabbing her arm, they both got onto their feet.

Murphy wiped her face.

Nixon placed a hand on her shoulder, "I know, Murph".

She sighed shakily, "okay, sir…what now?"

A squad had gone into town, coming back with all sorts of food for the prisoners.

It was hectic.

They were all starving, creating a mad crowd towards the food.

Murphy, like the rest, tried to hand out food as quick as possible.

But that all stopped. Colonel Sink had arrived with a few others, one of them being Doctor Kent, the regimental surgeon. Kent cared for the men's well-being and told them all to stop giving food to the prisoners because it would only worsen their condition. But the worse news, was when Kent said the men would need to remain inside the camp until they found them somewhere safe and warm to stay in town.

Liebgott had to tell them.

It was heart-wrenching.

The prisoners were crying, Liebgott was crying.

And seeing Liebgott cry, that was a punch to the stomach.

Kent and a few other medics stayed behind.

"I'll stay".

Winters sharply looked at her.

Murphy nodded, "I'll stay".

Gene was next to her, "we could use some help, sir".

"I want you back tonight". Winters told her quietly, "understand?"

She nodded again, "yes, sir".

Tom, James and Eddie stayed behind as well.

Murphy told Heffron to go back with Webster.

Eddie had volunteered like Murphy, Tom and James offered soon after.

When Easy left, Kent left the camp with Ralph and two hours later, trucks full of women and children arrived. There was a women's camp at the other rail road stop. Kent wanted to bring them all together and manage everyone.

When the women and children got off the trucks, they all rushed to their help.

Some of the men were reunited with family again.

They all cried together, not knowing if they'd see each other again.

Most of the children were orphaned, Murphy put Tom and James in charge of them.

They were small children, the oldest was ten.

None of them could speak English, some of them were born in the camp and couldn't speak at all, despite being four-years-old. Murphy was sitting with a little girl, who was around three and she was very frightened of them. She was more scared of the uniforms. After wrapping her up in a blanket, the little girl curled into Murphy's side and she hugged that little girl so tightly, you wouldn't believe it.

She didn't have a name, she didn't have any parents and she couldn't talk.

Murphy talked to her; "you're going to have a family. And two parents who love you".

The little girl never cried once.

But when it was starting to get dark, Murphy had to take her boys and leave.

And that's when the little girl started to cry.

This little Jewish girl, who didn't know what love was. Who only knew fear, depression and heart break. Murphy crouched back in front of her, the girl wrapped her arms tightly around her neck, sobbing into her. It took a lot of strength not to cry with her.

"Murph, we have to-"

"yeah, we're going".

So, Murphy got up and kept the little girl in her arms.

Eddie gave the girl a kind smile, "what's your name?"

"She doesn't have one". Murphy said.

The little girl placed her head on Murphy's shoulder.

Yeah, she was going back with them.

Murphy didn't care, she wasn't going to leave her there.

And her squad didn't say anything, while they walked towards their jeep.

Murphy got very close, she was sitting in the back, with the little girl on her lap.

When Kent came over, with a deep frown.

"Sargent, you-"

"I know". She whispered, kissing the little girl on the top of her head. "Just – do it quick, alright?"

Of course, she couldn't stay. Murphy could have taken her back home, back to the States and on that farm. But the war wasn't over. A three-year-old couldn't continue with them.

It didn't matter what Murphy wanted, the world would continue to be cruel.

Giving her a solemn look, Kent grabbed the girl.

She started to scream, crying out in earnest.

Murphy closed her eyes.

"Go!" Eddie told the driver, "fucking – move!"

With the girl still screaming in the background, they left the camp.

…

Murphy sent her guys back to the house.

"I need to tell them we're back".

"See you soon, Sarge". Tom said to her.

"Eddie, make sure Babe's okay".

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy made her way up towards Battalion, which was stationed in a very large house. Almost looked like a castle. She walked inside the grand entrance, looking from left to right, until she eventually headed up the stairs. The place was quiet, but she could hear voices coming from down the corridor. It was Winters and Nixon.

She knocked on the door.

It opened and Nixon let her inside.

Winters was soon on his feet, "I'm glad you're back".

Murphy clenched her jaw from a moment, "why was Kacper there?"

His face fell, "what?" He whispered.

"Kacper". She repeated, "he was – he was the Polish guy in Holland".

Winters looked over at Nixon, who shrugged in return.

Clearing his throat, the Major looked back at Murphy.

"Murphy, I don't know".

It was very tense.

Murphy's insides were burning hot with rage.

She wasn't mad at Winters, it wasn't his fault – obviously. It was no one's fault. But Murphy couldn't wrap her head around it all. Those men, Kacper, the women, the children and the little girl. It was too much to take in. The floor was lifted from her feet again, Murphy sat down on the ground, like back in that tiny hut.

That rage was gone, replaced with this horrible empty feeling.

Closing her eyes, Murphy lowered her head.

Winters was soon down in front of her.

"Sweetheart". He whispered.

Because he had to know if she was going to be okay.

Murphy placed her hands over her face.

This painful sound left her body, caught between a sob and a groan.

Winters wrapped his arms around her, gathering her into him.

"I know". He whispered, "Jesus, Murphy – I know".

He couldn't tell her that the Russian's had liberated a camp much worse.

He couldn't tell her about the millions of others who had died.

Even for him, it was all a bit too much to take in.

Murphy was trying to talk, she tried to tell him about the little girl and seeing Kacper, but she could barely get a word out, because she was sobbing too hard and all Winters could do was hold her, tell her how much he loved her and tell her everything was going to be okay.

She didn't cry herself to sleep.

Murphy was soon lying down on the bed, Winters was next to her.

She fell asleep in his arms, still crying silently.

Winters played with her hair, told her about their farm.

Just saying anything to free her mind from horror.

The next morning, after only four hours of sleep, Murphy got up.

Her eyes were still sore.

Rubbing them a few times, she carefully got out of bed and walked over to the window. Murphy drew back the curtain a little, peaking outside. The streets were crowded with locals, who were all marching towards the camp. They had orders to clean-up. Good. But they deserved a lot worse. Murphy was very angry at the locals, they had to have known. They only lived half an hour away from the camp – they had to have known!

Opening the window, Murphy poked her head out.

"Hey!"

She called out, "hey – you!"

Most of the locals looked up.

"You're all a bunch of fascist scum!" Murphy yelled, "you arrogant, racist fucks!"

Winters shot forwards, "Murphy!"

"Don't play dumb with me! I could smell – you could all smell it, you bunch of arseholes!"

"Shut up!" One of them yelled at her.

"Me!" Murphy yelled, "just wait – I'll get my rifle and-"

"Murphy!" Winters wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back.

"Dick – no, they have to know how-"

"I know, Murphy". He mumbled softly, "they're about to step into hell, alright?"

Sighing, she looked at him.

"Fine". Murphy mumbled. "Sorry".

Shaking his head, Winters kissed her forehead. "No, I love you more for that".

She placed her hand on the side of his face, "we just have to live life, to our very fullest".

He nodded.

"And now we know why we're here". Murphy whispered, "all of this war, it was to liberate them".

"That's right, sweetheart".

Standing on the balls of her feet, Murphy kissed his lips.

It was a day that should never be forgotten.

For the victims, all across Europe.

That grey area, it was now out of the shadows.

For all the world to see.


	43. Chapter 43

In early May they entered Bavaria.

They were hoping to capture the town of Berchtesgaden.

It was a famous town, high up in the Alps, the Nazi party's symbolic home and the heads of the Third Reich had houses there. Although Hitler was dead, he killed himself in his bunker in Berlin on the 30th of April, he had apparently ordered the SS to make it their last stand from which to mount a guerrilla resistance against the allied advance.

The first step was blocking the roads.

Which was where Easy were, perched on the side of a mountain, while their mortar squads used whatever they had to get rid of all the boulders and rocks on the road. It was a very hot day, and being out in the open, with no shade from the sun, played havoc on Murphy's pale skin.

She stayed in the truck and when that got too hot, she'd poke her head out of the window to catch some wind, which blew every now and then.

Ah, sweet relief.

"Sarge? Are we 'gonna kill some Nazi's or what?"

"Not right now, Tom".

Murphy hated to disappoint her two new guys. They had gone through all that training and hadn't fired their weapon once.

"If you're good, I'll find you something to shoot".

Luz chuckled from beside her.

Murphy looked at him, "or someone".

"Close that door, you're letting the heat in".

She closed the truck door, Luz was leaning back against the seat, feet up against the dashboard.

Murphy looked towards the large boulders and rocks, "our mortars aren't doing a good job".

"That's a first, huh?"

Sighing, she gave a tiny nod.

Luz lit up his cigarette, "they called for the engineers a half hour ago".

"They did? Or you did?"

"I did".

Murphy smirked, "then they'll never arrive".

Grinning, Luz shoved her lightly. "You ass, Murphy Flynn".

There was a knock on the window.

Murphy rolled it down.

"Yes?"

Grant laughed, "you two look nutty as hell – look, the rocks ain't shifting, engineers haven't arrived yet".

She looked over at Luz, "is that right, Chuck?"

Luz rolled his eyes, "Murph…I called them, alright?"

"I know". She mumbled, "what'd you say to them, George? Take your time?"

Grant laughed again, "anyway…Sink just left, we're finding another way inside".

"There's another way in?" Luz asked.

"Yeah, we're taking the autobahn".

Murphy pulled a face, "eh?"

"The highway, you loony!"

Tutting softly, she reached outside and shoved his head.

Grant chuckled, "alright, sorry, Murph".

Winters led the Battalion on the backtrack to the autobahn, then east to Bad Reichenhall, where a blown bridge stopped them from proceeding. It was a race to beat the French, Sink wanted his Battalion to be the first into Berchtesgaden, Easy wanted to be the first to reach the town out of all the other Companies. They spent the night on the side of the road and moved out, taking the town on May the 5th.

…

Easy were the first into Berchtesgaden, the rest of 2nd followed after. The French arrived in next, with other American units after them. But Easy were the first ones in. And this town, it was like something from a fairy-tale book. Snow capped mountains, dark green woods, icey creeks, gingerbread houses – it was magical. They had no resistance, didn't fire a single shot. The only drama they had was when they forced the Natives out of their beautiful homes.

God, they didn't care.

Winters and Speirs got all these people out, so their guys could move in.

They were living in luxury.

This house – it was like a castle in the clouds.

They all stayed in Alpine-styled apartment house blocks. It was the new modern craze and it was wonderful. They had many rooms and much to loot. Alcohol and food, you were never short on the stuff. They cracked into a crate of champagne, had three bottles between them. But before they could drink themselves into oblivion, they had work to do.

They set up a main line of resistance and put guards out.

Thousands of Germans were surrendering, and they had to direct them to POW points. To get their weapons and keep order. The German soldiers were very compliant, didn't give them any trouble. They marched, they sometimes smiled at you weakly because they were so happy it was ending for them, they were finally going home and back to their families. Easy weren't, they were still a long way from ever going home. But they had this town for the now, they could drink, loot and take whatever the hell they wanted. Even Murphy sent a lot of stuff back to her mother and brothers. Silverware mostly and a jewellery box, full of diamonds and gold. If her mother sold that, she'd make a good fortune for herself. These Nazi's, they knew how to live a good life, even if they were all evil bastards.

Murphy had a field day with Grant and Martin.

They found wine cellars, drank themselves silly.

They ate a lot of food, cheese, bread, cold meat and best for Murphy, chocolate.

God, she had never seen so much chocolate in her life.

It was Grant who found this pantry, just stacked with the stuff.

When he opened the pantry up, Murphy's jaw almost hit the floor.

She was so happy, tears were in her eyes. Though, it could have just been the large consumption of wine she had already been drinking. But nonetheless, Murphy was very emotional at the sight of so much chocolate.

"Awe, I knew you'd love this".

Grant wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Oh my God". She whispered, "this is so beautiful and wonderful".

It was a good thing she wasn't on guard duty that day, she was pretty high on sugar and wine. There was a skip in her step, she was moving triple time, all this mountain air, it was getting to her head.

"Murphy".

Winters was grinning, watching her with amused eyes.

She was walking down the street, probably trying to find her squad.

"Hello!" Murphy grinned back, walking over to him. "Listen, right – Chuck, he found this pantry, so much chocolate. I think we should put our farm right here, right by that pantry".

He chuckled, "whatever you want, sweetheart".

Winters didn't care, they were all just so happy on that day.

"Listen, we're moving out".

Murphy's face fell, "what? But…Dick, the chocolate".

He smiled and kissed her softly on the lips.

"We're taking the Eagles Nest".

She pulled a face, "who's Nest?"

Winters laughed lightly, taking her hand. "The Eagles Nest, Murphy. Where Hitler lived, briefly. Well, it was his birthday present".

"That doesn't sound like a good birthday present. Imagine getting a nest".

He chuckled again.

Murphy smiled, "well…suppose it's another mountain to climb?"

"That's right". He said, "six thousand feet, rises right over this town, on top of the Kehlstein".

"You know a lot about that Nest". She mused, "did you build it?"

Winters led her towards the Berchtesgaden Hof.

"No, sweetheart. I didn't build the nest".

The Hof was busy being looted by some of the officers from Easy, Speirs included.

Welsh had already packed up a lot of cutlery, real silver. He was going to send it back to Kitty.

"Having fun, Murph?" The Irish Lieutenant asked.

"All the best fun, sir". She responded lightly, "heard we're taking the nest, sir".

"We are". Welsh was grinning, "lots to see".

"You want some chocolate?" Murphy reached inside her bag, pulling out a bar. "Got loads, you want some?"

He shrugged, taking the bar. "Thanks, Murph".

"You only looted chocolate?" Speirs mumbled.

Noelle shook her head, "no, sir". She replied, "sent things back to 'ma, she might be able to sell them off for a good fortune, you know?" Murphy, leaned against the table. "Cause, you know, I think we all deserve something nice after what we went through".

"Can you get Grant?" Speirs asked, "and find me Floyd, while you're at it".

She pushed herself off from the table, "right away, sir".

Smiling, Winters gave her hand a squeeze. "Not too much trouble, okay?"

Murphy nodded, with a sly smile. "Okay, Major Winters".

Running up the side of the mountain with her friends, was the best feeling in the world.

"Currahee!" They all yelled.

Murphy was pretty drunk, everything felt amazing.

Alton More was the first guy to reach the nest.

After securing the Eagles Nest, everyone rushed inside.

This place, truly was, a castle in the clouds.

There was a room downstairs, all the booze and food were stored down there. And before you could blink, it was almost gone. Everyone wanted the alcohol. Murphy was handed another bottle of champagne, which of course, she popped open. The war wasn't even over but more and more German armies were surrendering. Victory day, it was just around the corner. And being inside the house, of the man who started all this shit, it felt great drinking his wine and eating his food.

Just like the barracks, Grant, Martin and Murphy all destroyed a bedroom.

They tore up the floors, ripped off the wallpaper and broke the bed.

Feathers were scattered everywhere; the windows were smashed and the mirrors.

It looked like a mortar had just hit this room.

And, to make this final, Murphy set fire to a painting and tossed it over the balcony.

Was there any need for all that?

Probably not. But they were drunk and held a lot of hatred between them towards Hitler.

Of course, someone walked into that room an hour later.

"Who destroyed the room?" Speirs asked.

Murphy shrugged, "I think it was Smitty, sir".

When the Captain left, the three of them burst out laughing.

God, it was always too easy to blame Smitty.

She didn't do much else in the Eagles Nest.

Murphy wondered down the corridors, exploring rooms with her guys.

Heffron wasn't too keen on champagne, they drank it for him.

And by the time they got back into town, everyone was loaded on drink.

Murphy decided to stop drinking, her head was starting to spin, and she didn't want a repeat. Trying to give out orders to her guys, who were drunk and looting, well, it wasn't worth the fight. Murphy didn't give them any orders, she just told them not to get hurt. And it was fun exploring this town, though, it soon came to a sudden halt.

Murphy was on her own and she opened up one house.

She'd never forget it. It was painted white, with blue by the windows and doors. And it sat right up on top of the street, detached from the other houses. Murphy pulled on the door handle, it was locked. Shrugging, she took out her gun and blasted the lock off. She didn't know what she was looking for, Murphy was drunk, she had nothing else to do.

As soon as she stepped inside the house, Murphy was met by a terrible order.

Made her sick to her stomach.

Covering a hand over her mouth, she walked further into the house and entered the living room. Out of shock, the hand fell from her mouth. It was an SS officer, he was with his wife, two small children and they were dead. A bullet to each head. Murphy didn't know how long they had been lying there dead for, but it was left long enough for the house to start to smell.

The thing is, the kids couldn't be blamed for any of this.

It wasn't their fault their parents were like that.

Kids were impressionable, always looking up to someone. And whoever their parents followed, they had to follow because they didn't know any better. So, the kids, they didn't deserve to die. Murphy thought these Germans were a twisted bunch, always putting their blame onto their kids. Sharing your burdens with your children, it's not right. It's not way to raise a kid, it's no way to live.

Murphy slid down against the wall, sitting down.

In some ways, she was no different from those kids.

Her father, he always shoved his problems onto her and Noah.

From a very young age, the whole world was put on her shoulders.

Murphy didn't have a lot of time to just be a kid. She was always worried for when they'd next eat, her little brothers and sisters dying, not getting a bath, not having enough blankets and living in constant damp houses and danger.

But if she didn't have those problems, she wouldn't have ended up here.

Granted, Murphy didn't really want to be in this house.

But she was there, still sitting and staring at the dead family.

Meanwhile, Winters had done a little scouting of his own and stumbled across Goering's Officer's quarters and club. He found a dead General in one room, full uniform with a bullet through his head, ear to ear. He was a two-star General. However, in a vaulted cellar, fifteen metres by ten metres, was row after row of liquor racks stretching from the floor to the ceiling. The brand names covered the world. He put a double guard on the officer's club entrance, and another on the cellar. And he issued an order: no more liquor, every man and woman in the Battalion was to go on the wagon for seven days.

But he did know one man who would appreciate the hell out of this find.

Captain Nixon.

He left the club and made his way back down the street.

"Oh, sir".

It was Grant.

Winters smiled, "hello, Sargent Grant".

He cleared his throat, "uh – have you seen Murph?"

The smile soon vanished from his face.

"Only, it's been a couple of hours, we can't find her, sir".

"Have you sent out some men to find her?"

He was trying not to get worried.

But Murphy was drunk and wondering this town alone. Of course, Winters was worried. And perhaps a tiny bit angry, the war wasn't over, she still needed a good head on her shoulders. Winters was glad he had banned alcohol for the time being.

"We have, sir". Grant said, "I've informed Captain Speirs".

He sighed, "alright, I'll grab Welsh and we'll take a look".

"Yes, sir".

It was Tom and James who had lost their Sargent.

They were both worried, had been looking for her for hours.

Grant was anxious to tell Winters, while Malarkey told Speirs.

And everyone sobered up pretty quick, because this was Murphy, not some replacement.

She had been around since Toccoa, they couldn't lose her now, not when the war was ending.

They had no idea Murphy was just sitting inside a house, totally safe but stunned.

And she had no idea most of Easy were out looking for her.

Time just seemed to stand still, it was very strange. Murphy got lost, staring at this family, while she thought back to her life and the moments which led her to Easy and to Winters. Her dad wanting her to join, was the best thing he had ever done for Murphy. He didn't buy her things, he never said how much he loved her, but he gave her so much more in the end. He gave her a Company of brothers and the love of her life.

Murphy got back onto her feet.

She turned her back on the family and walked out of that house.

Murphy walked down the street, not expecting anything.

"There you are – Jesus Christ!"

Frowning, she looked up.

Grant, Malarkey and Heffron came running over to her.

"Where the hell have you been-"

"we've been looking everywhere for you-"

"are you hurt?!"

Holding up her hands, Murphy took a step back.

"I'm fine, I – I just got lost, that's all".

Grant sighed, "Jesus Christ, Murph…Winters has been sending out everyone to look for you".

Murphy grimaced, "shit".

Malarkey huffed, "yeah, shit is right".

Luckily for her, Winters wasn't mad, he was just relieved to see her back.

"Are you okay?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah, I just – I got stuck in my head".

Winters frowned a little.

She sighed softly, giving him a tiny smile. "I'm okay, love".

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, "I found a cellar full of booze".

"Did you tell a certain someone?"

Winters chuckled, "thought I'd surprise him in the morning".

Murphy smiled softly at him, "you're a very good friend".

"Too good".

She took his hand, "you 'wanna show me your room now?"

"Yup".

Winters was quick to reply, it made her smile again.

…

Two days went by quickly.

They had outpost duties by the crossroads mainly and if they weren't doing that, they were looting the houses and exploring placing around the Eagles Nest. Alcohol was still banned, so, troopers weren't getting as drunk as they would like. Though, they still managed to grab the odd bottle of wine and champagne then again, they were usually hidden in the cellars of the houses.

Murphy decided not to drink, she'd respect Winters wishes – she guessed.

Though, it did feel odd dragging her friends back into the houses instead of them doing this for her. Especially when it was a guy as big as Grant or Martin. Tom and Jones weren't drinking, she knew her machine-gunners weren't, Webster was mainly writing back home. He'd sit for hours writing, you couldn't get him to do anything else. Even Liebgott couldn't get him away from a piece of paper and his pen. If Webster wasn't doing his duties, he was writing. That was it.

Murphy actually liked that about him, he didn't get into any trouble.

Saved her a lot of hassle.

"So…what happened again?"

"Like I said, Murph". Eddie told her, "I was in bed, she was next to me. My trousers fell off and-"

"Jesus, Eddie". Murphy muttered, "look, just – don't tell anyone, alright? I'll get into trouble for this. Not you".

He nodded, "so…?"

"No, I'm not 'gonna tell anyone". She said, "believe me".

Eddie grinned, "thanks, Sarge!"

Murphy shook her head, "get lost, you little devil".

Alright, so Eddie was being a little too busy without her knowing.

They weren't allowed to fraternise with the natives. It was a strict law placed by Sink.

Still, the guys often found themselves between the sheets with a German woman.

Murphy didn't have that problem.

Obviously.

She spotted Winters and Lipton getting into a jeep later that day.

Guarnere must have rubbed off on her, she wanted to know why they looked so happy.

"Get in, Murphy". Winters told her, who was starting the engine.

"Yeah, alright".

She jumped into the backseat, Lipton turned to face her.

"Got some news". He said, "I think Major Winters would want to tell you".

Frowning, Murphy looked over at Winters.

"Is that right, Lieutenant Lipton?"

The Major was smiling, eyes bright and happy.

Though she had no idea why, Murphy smiled back.

"Okay, can you tell me now?"

Winters stopped the jeep once they reached the road, which would take them up towards the Eagles Nest. Cutting the engine, he then got out of the jeep and took her hand. Murphy was soon out of the jeep, standing on the side of the road, hand in hand, with the man she loved most. For a moment, she thought this man was going to ask her to marry her, but he said this instead.

"It's over".

A few thoughts ran through her head.

What was over? They were over?

Winters chuckled quietly, "no – sweetheart, the war is over. The German Armies have surrendered. The European war is over".

Murphy looked at him, eyebrows pulled into a frown.

She took a tiny step back.

"What?" She eventually whispered.

Smiling, he placed his hands on the side of her face.

"We survived". Murphy said quietly, "holy – Jesus".

Winters kissed her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

And she smiled into the kiss.

"Oh my God". Murphy said, "I can't believe we're here".

He tucked a strand of hair behind her hair, before taking her hands again.

"I'm right where I want to be, Murphy Flynn".

Murphy felt tears burn her eyes, "Dick…our farm".

Winters smile wavered slightly, "I know, sweetheart".

She sniffed, staring at him adoringly. "It's really over?"

He nodded, "it's over".

A tear rolled down her face, "are you sure?"

Smiling a little sadly, Winters nodded, wiping that tear away with his thumb.

"I'm sure, sweetheart".

Murphy sniffed again, "no more forests?"

He shook his head, "no". Winters assured her quietly.

Biting down on her lip, she looked over at the view.

Murphy swallowed, thinking of everyone they had lost.

God, they lost so many friends for the war to end.

She leaned into Winters side, assuring herself that she still had him.

He wrapped an arm around her, kissing the top of her head.

"Are you alright, Murphy?" He asked softly.

She hummed quietly, "fine – yeah".

It was hard to imagine a place without war. It was hard to imagine civilian life.

Murphy wanted that farm, she wanted that life but leaving her friends, that was a different matter, that was going to be hard. However, the Pacific war was still going on, those boys out there were still fighting. Murphy wondered when they'd be dropped there.

Closing her eyes, she felt her knees grow a little weak.

It was all over from them here.

So, what was next?

Pulling back, she looked at him.

"Out of hell, you still remained by my side".

Winters smiled small.

Murphy took in a deep breath, "and if we have to face another hell, then I'll be there with you".

Nodding a little, Winters pressed his lips on her forehead. "I love you, Murphy".

She pressed her face against his chest for a few moments, "okay – let's tell them the good news".

…

On that same day, they moved to Zell am See, Austria.

They stopped at Saalfelden, overseeing thousands of DPs from all over Europe.

The Austrians didn't want to give up their homes, they were a lot meaner than the Germans. They loved Adolf and Winters went around and ordered everyone out of their houses again. He was very firm with them, you'd never see him so angry, but he wanted his men to sleep indoors and not on the ground again. They stayed there for a week and were moved Kaprun. Headquarters were in Zell am See.

Austria truly was a wondrous place.

The women were beautiful, there were rolling hills and a huge crystal blue lake.

So, they all got into that lake and swam around.

Still celebrating, still drinking all the fine wine.

It was heaven.

Murphy could picture herself by this lake, for the rest of her life.

The weather was warm, they had good houses and Bastogne felt like a lifetime ago.

She was sitting on the dock, feet brushing against the water.

Her squads were splashing around, laughing and having fun.

It was nice seeing Heffron laugh again, and Malarkey.

Murphy sipped on her water – she wasn't drinking anymore. It didn't sit well with her, after drinking so much over the course of this war. What she really wanted now, was her friends to get home safely and to live out the rest of her life with Winters.

But of course, nothing was ever easy in Easy.


	44. Chapter 44

Living in Austria was easy.

They got to ride on a ski-lift up into the Alps, stay at a lodge and were fed.

Winters had arranged for this.

When they weren't eating in the lodge, guys went hunting, skiing, swam in the lake, drank, slept with a lot of beautiful women and lived like kings. Though, Speirs did have one very strict rule that each Sargent enforced – no drunkenness outside. It was a very sensible order. Drunk soldiers roaming patrolled areas, it could never end well.

Of course, things took a turn for the worst when they held a parade on the anniversary of D-Day which was June 6th. One year had passed since they embarked on the adventure that changed their lives. It was also one year ago that they lost Meehan, Evans and of course, Bloser.

"Atten-hut!" Speirs called.

Everyone was stood in attention, while weather their class-A uniforms.

"Right shoulder – ho!"

Their rifles went onto their right shoulder.

"Order – ho!"

And then went down by their thigh.

It was very strange doing drills again.

"At ease". Speirs eventually told them.

Everyone stood at ease.

"General Taylor is aware that many veterans, including Normandy veterans, still do not have the required eighty-five points required to be discharged. On this day, the anniversary of D-Day, he has authorised a lottery to send one man home in each Company, effective immediately".

Murphy smiled a little.

Of course, they had rigged that lottery and gave it to someone who deserved this the most.

"For Easy Company, the winner is…serial number 13066266, Sargent Darrell C. Powers".

Everyone started to cheer.

"That's how it's done, Shifty!" Luz cheered.

"Congratulations, Shifty". Grant told him.

"Sargent Grant will see to it that 2nd Platoon takes over at the crossroads checkpoint".

Murphy sighed.

"Beginning tonight at 2200 hours". Speirs finished.

Well, no one was going to be happy about that.

"General Taylor has also announced that the 101st Airborne Division will definitely be redeployed to the Pacific".

Each heart sank.

No one smiled. They all stared at Speirs, not quite believing this.

"So, beginning tomorrow at 0600 hours, we will begin training to go to war".

Another bloody war.

They said their goodbyes to Shifty.

He was an amazing soldier, such a warm and kind man.

"I'm sorry I took your gun".

Shifty chuckled and pulled her into a quick hug. "Take care, Murph".

"You too, Shift".

Murphy didn't want to train her squads for another war, especially not Heffron, Eddie and Webster. They had already seen enough of war, Murphy just wanted to start her new life with Winters already. And she hoped, he'd want the same. But the thoughts and feelings she had during that announcement and parade, quickly vanished, when she overheard a conversation. She wasn't spying, she just accidentally listened in, creeping behind a corner.

"You didn't tell him?" Winters said.

"No, I couldn't get him to shut up". Nixon replied.

Murphy stayed behind the door, frowning a little.

"What? Tell me what?" Welsh asked.

"Guts and glory here applied for a transfer". Nixon said.

Murphy's eyes widened.

 _What?_

"What?" Welsh asked lowly.

"The 13th Airborne are heading out for the Pacific right away". Winters replied, "if I'm going, I want to get it over with".

The thing is, Murphy could understand his reasoning behind his decision. Winters was a fully-grown man, who could make solid decisions, without having to consult someone about them. Including Muprhy.

"Are you in on this too?"

"I can't let him go by himself". Nixon replied to Welsh, "he doesn't know where it is".

Welsh huffed out a tiny laugh, "you're leaving the men?"

Winters was quiet for a moment, "they don't need me anymore".

"You're leaving Murph". He stated.

There was silence.

"She'll understand". Winters said quietly, "I've yet to tell her".

"You don't need too".

Murphy appeared on the steps.

The three officers all looked up towards her.

"Oh, Jesus". Nixon whispered.

Murphy shook her head, "I'm not – I'm not mad".

She walked down the steps, towards Winters.

Murphy looked up at him, sighing softly.

"How could I be mad, when I admire and love you so much?"

Winters smiled softly, taking her hands. "I wanted to tell you, Murphy. I didn't want you overhearing that".

"I understand". She said quietly, "you're very brave, Dick Winters".

He kissed her forehead.

"However, you're a bit of a dope thinking we don't need you anymore".

Welsh chuckled, "taking the words right out of my mouth".

Murphy slowly shook her head, "you think we'd want to jump into another war without Dick Winters taking the plunge with us? You're crazy, love".

"The sooner this ends, the sooner we can live on our farm". Winters reminded her softly.

"You're right". She said to him, with a firm nod. "Which is why I'm going with you".

"Murphy-"

"you 'wanna jump into another hell, fine. But you're not going anywhere without me".

Winters eyes softened into hers.

"Because that's what we do, Dick". Murphy said, "that's what we do for someone we love. My friends would stand behind me, one hundred percent. I'm not worried about that. I just don't want to be apart from you, do you understand?"

He gave her a tiny nod.

"Okay, so you understand that when you apply for a transfer, you put in my name, and you'd better be bloody firm about it, or else I'll just have to sneak on that 'fecking plane".

Fortunately, his transfer was rejected.

Murphy had never felt so much relief in her life.

And things went back to normal, training six days a week, with crossroads duty.

They took it in turns, two a shift.

It was almost like being back to Toccoa. But more or less, like England.

They had houses, a place to put their feet up at the end of the day.

All the NCO's shared a house, it was a very large house, with four to a room. The other men were in houses close-by, very lovely houses compared to theirs. And because the Austrians were still a little weary of them, they didn't have good food supply. For the most part, they lived off potatoes and whatever animal they could hunt in the forests. Water supply was fine, they had hot and cold water, which meant showers and baths.

One day, Murphy had a bath, washed her hair and changed into a clean uniform.

The sun was about to set, the sky was already turning orange.

However, no one was around.

It was creepy, the house was completely empty.

Placing a hand on her chest, Murphy ran outside and found the courtyard was empty too.

"What the-"

"Murph".

Murphy sharply turned around and spotted Grant, "Chuck, where the hell is everyone?"

He smiled, "come with me, alright?"

She gave him a curious stare, "who's in jail?"

Grant laughed, a proper belly laugh.

Murphy laughed back, though still highly confused.

"No one". He said, once he stopped laughing. "just – come with me, alright?"

Sighing quietly, Murphy slowly walked over to him. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see but it's fine, I promise".

Crossing her arms, Murphy started following Grant.

"I've put you in a lot of trouble, huh?"

Murphy snorted, "you have, yeah".

Grant smiled, "quite proud of them, actually".

She frowned, looking at him.

He shrugged, "well, you did them, Murph. It would have been boring with you".

"It's been fun, Chuck".

Even Murphy had to admit that.

They had been through a lot together.

But Murphy felt little butterflies in her stomach for some reason.

What was going on?

They were walking the path towards the dock by the lake.

And she could spot friends there, standing on either side of the dock.

Taking in a shaky breath, Murphy grabbed onto Grant's hand.

"Chuck, what's going on?" She whispered.

"It's alright, Murph".

"No, you have to tell me – I'm scared".

Grant gave her hand a squeeze, "trust me, Murph. This is the easiest thing you'll ever do".

Despite the never-ending sea of nerves, she allowed Grant to lead her towards the dock.

Standing at the very end, waiting for her, was Winters.

What made this moment so special, was all her friends were there.

And they were smiling.

Grant let go of her hand, she looked at him.

"Go on, Murph". He said, "don't keep the Major waiting".

Her heart was racing. Her mind was gone, it had left her head.

Murphy looked at Winters, moving slowly towards him.

Her boots walked across the wooden ground, while she took in his glorious features under the setting sun. He was smiling at her, with those adoring and loving eyes. Murphy didn't feel nervous anymore, all those worries she had previously, they were gone because he was there, waiting for her.

Murphy smiled, when she reached his side.

Winters took her hands.

"Hello". She whispered, looking up at him.

"Murphy Flynn". He started softly, "I know how much you treasure your friends".

Swallowing, Murphy turned and looked at them.

"I do, yeah". She mumbled, before looking back at him. "What's going on?"

Murphy wasn't worried, but her eyes searched his for an answer.

Winters smiled, eyes glistening a little.

"I love you". He mouthed.

Murphy felt tears gather in the corner of her eyes.

He cleared his throat, "I love you, Murphy Flynn". He said, "and I think, the world should know just how lucky I am".

She opened her mouth.

"Ah – ". Winters smiled, "let me do this correctly".

Closing her mouth, Murphy nodded.

"Okay". He whispered, "let's go back to the start".

Winters titled his head to the side.

"I fell in love with you, on our way to England. Because once I noticed you, I never stopped noticing you, Murphy. You've always been on my mind, every single day. I can't sleep because my reality, has become greater than my dreams. And it's all because of you. You once told me, that you felt you weren't amount to anything. Murphy, you matter a great deal to me and to the men who have come here this evening, to witness my love for you".

A tear rolled down her cheek. And she wasn't the only one.

A few of her friends were wiping their eyes.

Winters smiled softly at her, "and we're going to have lots of little Quakers".

The men were chuckling quietly now, thinking of Wild Bill.

Murphy smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face.

Taking in a deep breath, Winters took her left hand and got down on one knee.

She should have expected it.

It was obvious from the start he was going to propose.

But this proposal was thoughtful, touching and left her speechless.

"Murphy Flynn…will you do me the greatest honour and be my wife?"

There was this beautiful ring.

It was silver, with a small white diamond in the centre.

Nothing too flashy but it was everything and more to Murphy.

She nodded, couldn't stop nodding.

Winters smiled, gently placing the ring onto her finger.

It fit perfectly. This whole moment was perfect.

He was perfect, Murphy was truly lucky.

And, instead of him getting up, she got down with him.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Murphy brought him into the fiercest kiss.

The others cheered, while the young couple almost fell backwards into the water.

She pulled back for air.

"Was that a yes?" Winters asked, with a tiny smirk.

Murphy snorted, shaking her head.

"Of course, it was". She croaked, voice thick with tears.

…

Murphy looked at the ring attached to the necklace around her neck.

Webster smiled, nudging her arm. "Happy?"

She smiled, "extremely".

They reached the crossroads and got out of the jeep.

Janovek was more than happy to see his relief.

"Don't salute the Germans". Webster said.

Murphy grinned, while they walked over to him.

"Oh, come on, I sort of get a kick out of it". He handed him the gun, "anyway, I've got a new enemy – the Japs, seventy-five points".

Murphy slowly approached a German solider, who was in crutches. "Web – get over here".

"How about you? You're a Toccoa guy, right? How many have you got?" Janovek asked Webster.

"Wouldn't you like to know".

Murphy sighed, while she took the solider's slip of paper.

"Discharged". She mumbled.

Webster and Janovek looked down at the slip of paper.

"Go ahead, take off". Webster told Janovek.

"Okay, see you back at the farm". He then smiled at Murphy, "congratulations, Sarge".

Murphy smiled at him, "thank you, Jan. We'll see you soon".

"Eighty-one". Webster then told Janovek, when he reached the jeep.

"Huh?"

"I have eighty-one points".

Janovek laughed, "well, it's just not good enough".

He drove off in the jeep.

Webster looked behind the German solider.

Murphy took the paper from him.

"Let's see about getting you a ride". He said.

She handed the paper back to the German, with a smile. "Follow me".

They walked over to a black car, "hey, where are they going?"

"Munich". The German officer responded.

"Want to go to Munich?" Webster asked the solider.

Who nodded eagerly, "ja!"

He then opened the back door, tossing out suitcases and their belongings.

It was a German couple in the front. They weren't happy.

"Get in". Webster told the solider.

Murphy smiled, giving her head a tiny shake.

They didn't care, that soldier deserved a ride, he was missing his foot and calf.

Webster joined Murphy, she clapped his shoulder.

"Good job, Web".

Then, they both heard a terrible screech.

They turned and soon saw the jeep crash and turn upside down.

"Oh, Jesus".

The pair of them sprinted down that road, cursing everything.

Janovek was in that jeep.

Murphy managed to stop a truck, while Webster ran right towards the crash.

Opening the door, she climbed up and reached for the radio on some guys back.

"What the hell are you-"

"shut up". She mumbled, "did you not fucking – Easy CP, Easy CP. This is Murph, we need a medic down at crossroads 2 immediately. I repeat, we need a medic and A-jeep to crossroads 2 immediately. Over".

After a few seconds, someone replied.

"On their way. Over".

"Over and out".

Murphy then ran over to the jeep, where Webster was pulling the driver out.

"Jan?!"

"The drivers dead-"

"and Jan?"

Webster slowly shook his head.

Sighing, Murphy got down on her knees, looking at Janovek.

His helmet must have fallen off during the crash, because his skull was dented right in.

It made her stomach turn.

She placed her fingers on his neck, "fuck!"

Webster flinched slightly.

It was the fact that they had lost someone after the war. Murphy didn't think it could get any worse than that, truthfully. Janovek didn't deserve to die, no one that she knew and liked did, but the fact that he died after the war, was a hard pill to swallow.

Taking in a deep breath, Murphy and Webster carefully pulled Janovek out from under the jeep.

The medics arrived, they got them both onto the jeep.

Murphy stayed, while Webster went up with them.

She jogged back down the road, approaching the German officer.

"Your friend?"

"Dead". Murphy mumbled, walking over to a car.

He frowned, "would you like me to take over?"

She checked over the drivers I.D, giving him the all-clear.

"No". Murphy said softly, "it's fine".

It didn't change.

The whole mentally of it all, happening all over again.

Losing a friend, you just had to keep going.

And guys were bummed about it, especially the replacements who had been close with Janovek. So, the best thing for them, was to keep going. Murphy assigned the guys a job, to go and look for food and check in with the DP's. While she went over to Floyd, helping him write out a letter to Janovek's parents. Speirs would be doing the same, but Floyd wanted to write one as well. So, she gave him the details on what had happened.

Once that was done, Murphy left the house and handed it over to Vest.

"You've got a few letters, Murph".

She took the letters and sat near the dock, opening up the first one.

 _"Dear Murph,_

 _I knew you'd be alright, you stupid mick._

 _Me and Joe are doing fine, still in the hospital being assholes and causing trouble. You know us, we'll never change, Murph. They're giving me a wooden leg, call me Pirate Bill – catchy, huh? Least I'll get around, you know? Frannie's been spending her days by my side, can't keep that girl away, love her for it. She gives me all sorts from Philly, usually sneaks in food and whiskey. God, I love her, Murph. You two will really hit it off, such a sweetheart. But you wouldn't 'wanna go and mess her about, she's a firecracker._

 _As for the barracks, I hope you tracked those devils down and gave them hell for that!_

 _I'm glad you put a pistol to that assholes head, Murph. Should have shot him, saved the touble of a court martial. And hey, that's great about Winters and Lip – they deserve that, huh? Man, when I got all the latest from you, I was happy. You know me, Murphy, I'm nosy as hell – that'll never fucking change, I promise you that._

 _Now, Murph, here's some good advice from me._

 _I ain't 'gonna tell you off for crying, that's fine. I realised that we're all bound to reach a point where we get a bit sentimental, you understand? You lost Jackson, he was your buddy, good kid. Real sharp, you trained him up good, Murph. You got your squad into the best shape, they respected the hell out of you and who could blame them? You're one tough son of a bitch, Murph, always will be to me._

 _When you leave the war, Murph, it's 'gonna be weird. You're not 'gonna know what to do with yourself. Being around folks who haven't seen combat, it takes some getting used to. And you don't have to talk about nothing if you don't want to, alright? If some jackass gets nosey, punch him, I don't care, just tell them to get lost. It's not their 'frigging business, you understand? Keep yourself busy, go straight to work or whatever. Just don't sit there and dwell over shit, that's the worst thing you could do._

 _Anyway, Murph, I'll close this for now._

 _Write back when you get a chance._

 _Love your nosey friend,_

 _Bill"._

It made her smile more than anything.

Guarnere always wrote the best letters.

A gentle kiss was soon placed on the top of her head.

Murphy smiled, "oh, hello, Major".

Winters sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "I was worried".

She shook her head, leaning back against his chest. "Don't be love, myself and Floyd have written a letter back to his family".

He was quiet for a few moments, staring out towards the water.

"That shouldn't have happened".

Murphy sighed softly, "no, it shouldn't have".

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright".

Winters held her tightly, pressing his lips against her head again. "My fiance".

She smiled a little.

"My beautiful, fiance".

Little butterflies squirmed around in her stomach.

"Mrs Winters".

Murphy turned her head slightly, "I love that".

Winters kissed her softly on the lips, "me too, Murphy Flynn".


	45. Chapter 45

"No, that's not the best one to tell them".

"Don't-"

"how about the time when you and Bill stole some bikes, hm?"

Grant grinned, shaking his head. "They don't need to know about that one, Murph".

Murphy turned around in her seat, facing the two replacements in the back. "You 'wanna hear that one, lads?"

"We do, Sarge!"

"Alright, sit tight – here we go".

The two Privates listened in carefully.

"Sargent Grant wakes me up in the dead of night, no idea why – why did you get me?"

Grant shrugged, "no idea, Bill's idea".

Murphy shook her head, "anyway…turns out, Sargent's Grant and Guarnere stole two police officer bikes, Bill got locked up and Sargent Grant wanted me to help bust him out".

"What happened to him?" One of them asked.

"Got his leg blown-off in Bastogne". Grant slowed the jeep down until it stopped.

It was a rainy night; the weather was starting to get a little cooler as the days got darker.

Murphy turned to face the front.

There was one Private standing there, with two jeeps beside him.

And from what she could see, two dead bodies.

"Wait here". Grant said, "Murph, on me – let's go".

Placing her hand-gun into her pocket, Murphy jumped out of the truck with Grant.

"Are you okay, Mack? You need some help?" Grant asked, while they walked over to him.

He was laughing, gun by his head, while he protected his eyes from the headlights.

Murphy grabbed Grant's jacket sleeve, pulling him to a stop.

"They wouldn't give me any gas".

And Mack was beyond drunk.

"Krauts!" He yelled, to the dead German.

Grant took a step forward.

"I tried to explain". Mack said, "this fucking Limey wouldn't listen".

"Shit". Murphy whispered.

Slowly walking behind Grant.

"I think he was a Major". Mack mumbled.

"Private, we've got a problem here". Grant said, voice calm and even.

Mack turned his head, looking at them. "Do you have any gas?"

"Why don't you give me your weapon?"

Murphy swallowed, slipping a hand inside her jacket, where her gun was.

"Well, I guess I'll just use his jeep". Mack said, ignoring Grant. "I don't think he's 'gonna be needing it".

Grant walked towards him again, "hold on a second, alright?"

 **Bang!**

Mack fired one shot, hitting Grant in the side of his head.

Murphy let out this scream and ran over to her friend. She wrapped her arms around his waist, helping him down on the road. Blood poured out of him like a river, soaking into her trousers and hands. Murphy could feel a familiar knot of dread, knowing there was no chance of Grant getting out of this alive. But as of right now, he had a pulse.

"Chuck?" She mumbled, "hey – listen, it's fine…I swear, you're okay – get some help!"

One of the replacements came running over, while the other radioed for help.

Murphy took off her jacket, and balled it up, before applying pressure onto his head.

She then looked behind her, Mack was driving off, reversing.

Taking a hold of the replacements hand, she placed it onto her jacket.

"Don't fucking let him die".

He nodded, eyes wide with horror.

Murphy placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm 'gonna get him, okay? Stay here".

She then looked back down at Grant.

"Chuck – I'm 'gonna get that idiot, okay? You're 'gonna be okay".

Getting up onto her feet, she took the safety off her gun and got into the other jeep. The other replacement quickly jumped out, to help with Grant. Starting the engine, Murphy drove up the small slope and headed quickly down the road. Because fuck that, if she was just going to let this arsehole drive off. Besides, Mack might end up wounding someone else, she couldn't take that risk.

She was going very fast, too fast.

Winters would give her hell for speeding like this, but she didn't care.

Murphy wasn't the best driver, in fact, she had only ever driven a couple of times.

Back home, she didn't have a licence and she didn't have one out there either.

It didn't seem to matter, Murphy was going to kill this guy.

She didn't know how long she had been driving for, but she soon came across the jeep.

Mack had obviously crashed.

Stopping the jeep, Murphy got out and ran towards the crash.

Mack wasn't there but she could see his footsteps in the mud.

She followed the footprints and saw Mack, standing close to the dock.

Murphy just ran at him, knocking them both down on the ground.

She was on top of him, squeezing his wrist tightly, so he was forced to release the gun. Mack flinched, still drunk but not drunk enough to not feel any pain. Good, she would enjoy this. Murphy brought out her gun, placing the the weapon on his temple.

"You're an idiot". She spat, "you drunk, stupid, bastard".

"Murph!"

Murphy kept her eyes locked on Mack.

"Murph, put the gun down". Bull told her.

She scrunched up her face, "are you serious, Bull?!"

He sighed, "yup – Speirs wants him back alive".

"He killed Chuck!"

Bull took in a tiny breath, "put it down, Murph".

Swallowing, Murphy grunted and pulled the gun away from his temple.

He was one lucky bastard.

Malarkey and Floyd grabbed Mack, while Murphy got off him.

She sat there, staring out towards nothing.

Bull got down next to her, clapping her shoulder. "Up you get, we're 'gonna straighten him out".

Running a hand down her face, Murphy shook her head.

"I'll stay here".

"Don't do anything stupid".

"I won't".

Murphy sat there, thinking she had just lost another friend.

Her mind went through everything, all the stuff she and Grant got up to during training. How much she admired and looked up to him. And she thought about Guarnere, how'd he react to this. God, Guarnere would have shot Mack, no doubt about it. Murphy would have, if Speirs didn't want him brought back alive, she would have killed him.

And that scared it.

Getting onto her feet, Murphy looked at the gun in her hand.

Pursing her lips together, she then tossed it into the lake.

It splashed, dragging down to the bottom of the water.

Murphy didn't know how long she had been standing there, staring at the water.

But hours must have passed.

Something was placed onto her shoulders.

Murphy tugged on the sides, it was a jacket.

She looked up and saw Winters next to her.

He looked back at her, "the surgeon said he'll live".

Murphy nodded slowly and took in a shaky breath.

Winters frowned, while he looked at her.

Breathing a little heavier now, Murphy eventually covered her eyes, while a soft sob broke out of her pursed lips. Tears were now pouring down her face like a river. God, that relief. Murphy didn't know how he survived, she was just glad he did.

"It's okay, sweetheart".

Winters soon had his arms around her.

"It's 'gonna be fine, I promise".

…

The weirdest day was saying goodbye to Malarkey.

Who was being sent away to an Airborne exhibition in Paris.

He'll be a technical adviser.

Murphy was happy for him, he wasn't jumping into the Pacific.

But they were all going to miss Malarkey.

"Been quite a ride, huh?"

Murphy smiled.

It was a beautiful morning in Austria.

The sun was out, the birds were singing. And the lake was sparkling.

He sighed, "not 'gonna lie, Murph. Kind of nervous about this".

She tilted her head to the side, taking his hand.

"You're 'gonna be fine, pal". She told him softly, "I swear. And when I get back, I'll come and see you, yeah?"

Letting go of her hand, Malarkey pulled her into a hug.

"Ah, Murph…sure 'am 'gonna miss you".

"Me too, Malark".

Murphy pulled back, staring at him.

"I'll see you at my wedding, Donald Malarkey".

He smiled, "I'll see you then, Murph".

A lot of Toccoa guys left.

Winters always found reasons for them not to jump into the Pacific so they could go home.

It was sad seeing them go, friends they had treasured so fondly over the years.

Murphy was afraid to say goodbye, but it was easier, because they were going home alive.

They had come a long way since Toccoa.

"Huh – Murph?"

Frowning a little, Murphy turned around.

"Sir?"

Nixon cleared his throat, walking over to her.

"I've been talking with Dick about stuff after the war, you know?"

Murphy nodded slowly, "right, sir".

"Well…I was wanting to offer him a job, in Jersey".

Her lips twitched, "you interviewed him?"

Nixon smiled, a broad grin. "I did, yeah". He then said, "of course, he'll only accept if you're on board".

Murphy sighed quietly, looking over at the lake.

 _New Jersey?_

Well, they couldn't exactly just buy a plot of land. They needed money first.

She nodded, "I like that idea, sir".

He continued to smile, "I told him that".

Murphy chuckled softly.

"There's a good college there as well, you know". He pointed out, "if you ever thought about that".

She looked at him, "I wonder what I'd study, sir".

"My advice?" Nixon back towards the water, "well…pick something you're good at".

She smiled, "I'm not sure they have anything with rifles or tactics, sir".

He laughed lightly, "no? Well, you don't have to go to college. You can do anything you want".

Murphy nodded, "I'll marry Dick".

Nixon smiled, "yeah…that's 'gonna be some wedding".

Smiling, she looked towards the lake.

It was going to be some wedding.

Murphy was going to invite the whole of Easy.

Including Colonel Sink, of course.

Boy, was he going to be shocked.

"I'm beginning to see a problem".

"What's that?" Nixon asked.

She frowned, "I don't have any female friends for bridesmaids".

He grinned, "hey – I'm sure they won't mind wearing a dress".

Murphy laughed.

"Thought of any dates?" Nixon asked her.

She sighed when her laughter stopped.

"As soon as we get home". Murphy said, "I don't need much. I just want all of you there".

Nixon clapped her shoulder, "wouldn't miss it for the world, Murph".

She smiled.

"You know, I don't need bridesmaids". She said, "I'll just have my friends walk me".

"Its 'gonna be a weird one". Nixon snorted, "but I expected that from you, Murph".

Murphy was quiet for a few moments.

"Better start writing out invites, huh?"

She huffed softly, "sure will, sir".

It was later on during the day, Murphy was waiting outside of this beautiful hotel, waiting for the others to come back. One of the German Generals wasn't too keen on surrendering to Heffron, so, Lipton was there to "soothe his ruffled feathers", as Winters would put it. Lipton was now placed in Battalion Headquarters, acting as an officer there.

When the jeep pulled up outside of the hotel, Murphy got onto her feet.

Speirs, Nixon, Winters and Lipton all got out.

She saluted the officers, of course.

Winters kissed her cheek, "okay, Murphy?"

Murphy nodded with a smile, "yes…I was wondering if I might have a few moments with Lieutenant Lipton?"

"Of course, Sargent". He mumbled lowly, with a smile.

"Did everything go okay?"

Winters nodded, "the General gave quite the speech to his men, I think you would have liked it".

Murphy looked at him, "what did he say?"

"Well, I'm not sure word for word but it went something like…you've found in one another a bond that exists only in combat. Among brothers who've shared foxholes and held each other in dire moments. And I am proud to have served with each and everyone of you".

She swallowed, giving a tiny nod.

"Yeah, that's good". Murphy croaked.

Smiling again, Winters kissed her forehead. "I'll see you inside?"

"Alright, won't be long".

Murphy walked down the steps, approaching Lipton, who was leaning against the jeep.

"Nice house, sir".

He smiled, "have you come to make fun of me?"

She huffed out a tiny laugh, "no – no, quite the opposite, actually".

Lipton made a gesture, "all ears, Murph".

Murphy cleared her throat, "well, it's been a long time since we've known each other, sir and you've always been a constant support to us. I'm not sure how we would have gotten through Bastogne and Foy without you, sir".

He smiled a little.

"And, well, you're my friend – have been since day one, really".

Murphy rubbed her lips together.

"As you know, I have an important day ahead of me".

Lipton was smiling larger now, "your wedding".

Murphy gave one nod, "my wedding, yes".

She looked at him.

"I'd really love it, if you would walk me down the aisle, sir".

Lipton's eyes widened a little, "me?"

Murphy nodded, "yeah…you, sir".

He huffed quietly, "why?"

She almost rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, sir…I can't think of anyone else who would fit that role".

"Murph". He whispered, "I'd be honoured".

She smiled, "thank you".

Murphy then added.

"You've always been there for me, sir. I want you to give me away because it would mean a great deal to me, sir".

Lipton gave her a nod, "it would mean a lot to me as well".

Taking in a deep breath, Muprhy cleared her throat. "I'm turning into something Bill hated".

He smirked, "what's that?"

She almost laughed, "sentimental".

"You're getting older, Murph". Lipton said, "and you're 'gonna be married soon".

Well, that was something to think about.

Murphy entered the hotel and walked up the stairs, heading into Winters room.

He was by his desk, sorting out a few documents.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing his neck.

"I told him".

Winters smiled, "and?"

"He was surprised". She mumbled, "I thought he would have expected it".

Turning around, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I have a question". Murphy said, placing her hands onto the back on his neck.

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"How fast do you think we can plan a wedding?"

Winters hummed softly under his breath, "with our skills? One week".

Murphy smiled and stood on the balls of her feet, kissing his lips softly.

"Good". She said softly, "I want to marry the hell out of you, Dick Winters".

Winters kissed her.

"Murphy Winters". He whispered, "doesn't that sound perfect?"

"It really does".

…

Murphy didn't know what time it was, but it was far too early or late to be feeling this disgusting. She was currently on the bathroom floor, a cold and wet flannel on her forehead. The sun wasn't up, it was either too early or still night, she didn't know. Murphy's fear of being sick was pushed to one side, she felt too nausea's to actually care.

And she did end up vomiting.

Which in return, woke up a worried Sargent.

"You alright?"

Murphy groaned into the toilet, "I have no idea, Tab".

Floyd was their new Platoon Sargent.

"What time is it?"

"Almost five". He replied, kneeling beside her. "You need a doc?"

Murphy shook her head, "it's nothing".

And it did turn out to be nothing, because a few hours later, she was eating.

 _Eating._

Murphy was scoffing food down like she hadn't eaten in weeks.

And she could have gone for seconds but they had to ration everything still.

However, when PT started, Murphy noticed how tried she got quickly.

She ended up at the back, with a few others who were hungover.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Luz asked, "you weren't drinking".

She shook her head, "not feeling great".

Murphy figured she had caught some sort of virus.

At the end of training, she ate some supper and fell straight asleep right after.

Only, Murphy ended up waking up at five the next morning and was sick again.

She was extremely confused and perhaps a little worried.

Still, Murphy went about the day and things were fine.

But then, at around supper, she had to quickly run off to the latrines.

She was sick, a lot.

"You're seeing the doc". Heffron said, "this ain't good, Murph".

Murphy didn't argue, she had to see a medic about this. She could have a sickness that needed treatment, or something more serious. And it was Roe who saw her, that early evening. They were alone, in a small and private room within the house.

"You've been sick?"

She nodded, "couple of mornings ago, this morning and just now".

Roe placed a hand on her forehead, "you do feel a little warm…anything else?"

Murphy rubbed her lips together, "bit of a headache, tired and my backs a bit sore. Think it's just getting back into training again".

"Yeah, it could be".

It was a few days later, Murphy's sickness wasn't shifting.

Five in the morning, then again in the evening.

Not only that but she was so tired. There were noticeable bags under her eyes now. And she didn't know why, because of all the sickness, Murphy went to bed at around eight every night and despite waking up at be sick, she had a good amount of sleep. It didn't make any sense. Her friends were worried, though had promised not to tell Winters.

"We don't need to worry him".

After getting sick before supper, Murphy saw Roe again in that same room as before.

He smiled, "lie on this bed, Murphy. I want to check something".

Nodding, Murphy did just that.

He sat on the edge of the bed, bringing out this weird, wooden trumpet shaped device.

"This might feel a little weird". Roe warned her kindly, "but don't worry, okay?"

Murphy was a little worried, "okay, Gene".

Gently, he pulled up her jacket and shirt, revealing her stomach.

However, he placed this strange instrument further down.

"What the 'feck are you doing?"

He chuckled, "just – hold on, alright?"

The instrument made contact with her skin, Roe placed the other end by his ear.

He moved the instrument around a few times, until he stopped.

Murphy couldn't see his expression, she missed the way his eyes glistened.

And after a few minutes, Roe sat up and pulled her jacket and shirt down.

Murphy leaned on her elbows, staring at him.

"What is it?" She asked. "Have I got an ulcer or something?"

Roe chocked out a laugh, "or something".

Murphy pulled a face, "what?"

He cleared his throat, "well…you're around eight weeks pregnant".

Her eyes went extremely wide.

"I heard the baby's heartbeat".

Murphy stared at this man, not even blinking.

Her entire face went pale.

"What?!"

Roe flinched a little, "it's fine, Murphy-"

"it's not fine!" She exclaimed, "Gene – we're going to war again, how is this fine?"

"We are". He said, "you're not going".

Murphy's eyes landed on her stomach.

Very gently, she placed a hand on the top.

"I'm really pregnant?"

Roe smiled, "it's a gift, Murphy Flynn".

Well, it wasn't what she had in mind.

They were supposed to get married first, go on a honeymoon, build a farm.

Murphy tried to think back to when they weren't careful.

They had always used protection. When didn't they?

But it didn't matter. Because she was having a baby.

Murphy didn't tell Winters. It wasn't that she was scared, they were just too busy. Roe had written out a medical note, stating that Murphy couldn't do any PT sessions until she felt better. Or, until she was willing to tell the truth. But the world had a funny way of working itself out.

On the 2nd of September, the Japanese Army surrendered.

The war was over.

No jump into the Pacific, they could go home soon.

Murphy found out she was pregnant two days ago.

And finally, she could let her fiance know.

She found him outside of the hotel, shaking Sink's hand.

"Congratulations, Dick". He said, "I might have court martialled you".

Winters chuckled quietly, "thank you, sir".

Murphy smiled a little.

Sink was finally informed.

She leaned against the wall, thinking back to her time in war.

Lots of grief, hardships and bonding moments.

 _What an adventure._

Those men, they made her into something special.

Murphy would never forget them.

"Murphy?"

Eyes a little wet, she looked up at him.

Winters frowned, wiping a tear from her cheek. "What's the matter?"

She let out a shaky sigh, taking his hand. "I'm thinking, we should get married soon".

"That's the plan, Muprhy".

"Preferably, when I can still fit into a dress".

Winters pulled a tiny confused face.

Murphy smiled, now placing her hand on the side of his face.

"I love you, I'll give you everything you've ever wanted, Dick Winters. And I'm going to love you both, until my lungs give out".

"Both?" He mumbled.

Winters was still frowning.

"Both?" He repeated.

Smiling a little wider, she took his hand again, placing it on her stomach.

"How'd you feel about Lewis as a name, love?"

His eyes widened, jaw dropping.

"You're pregnant?" Winters whispered, "you're – you're having a baby?"

Murphy sniffed, when a couple of tears rolled down her face.

"Oh, sweetheart".

He then kissed her fiercely on the lips.

"Oh my God…I'm 'gonna be a dad".

Murphy chuckled wetly, nodding her head. "You are, yeah".

"You, and this baby, are the greatest gifts, I've ever received". Winters pressed his forehead against hers, "I'm going to look after you both and I will never let you down".

She closed her eyes, "I love the baby so much already".

He smiled, "I know, sweetheart".

"A piece of me and a piece of you". She whispered, "can you believe it? After everything we've all been through, we're going to introduce a new life into this brand-new world?" Murphy pulled back, looking at him. "The world isn't on fire anymore, Dick Winters. And I'll love you, more and more each and every single day".


	46. AN

Well, that's another story finished!

What do you all think they're having? A Casper, a Rosie or a Lewis?

Just want to thank every single fucking one of you for all your comments and feedback.

Getting to the end of this story has been extremely hard, a lot has been going on at home.

The only reason I've been updating, is due to the fact that I get so many amazing comments and brilliant support. It's bloody hard trying to keep on top of a story. This has been the longest one I've written but I have this feeling, that the one I'm currently writing is going to be a lot bloody longer.

I'm not actually sure what else to say. But yeah, Murphy's been a good character to develop. I really loved writing those moments after a battle, when it was just her and Winters, sort of reflecting. Or those moments with Guarnere and Grant. I like writing the in between scenes. Because writing combat scenes usually take a good few hours haha And here I am, doing it all over again and trying to make it different.

Fucking wish me luck, by the way.

Anyway!

Again, thank you so much, it's always a pleasure.

See you's all in the next one!


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